


in the lights and buzz

by itbepansam, prettyshiroic (kcgane)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Asexual Keith (Voltron), EXCITEMENT. ITLAB IS HERE!, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Keith is a stunt double, M/M, Shiro is a famous actor, Slow Burn, Trans Character, platonic klance, platonic shallura, they meet when working the same movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itbepansam/pseuds/itbepansam, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcgane/pseuds/prettyshiroic
Summary: In the land of the lights and buzz, there's a big story waiting to be told. Stunt double Keith Kogane and upcoming actor Takashi Shirogane find themselves right in the heart of it. And little did they know, this story would change their lives forever.





	1. a very important exposition

**Author's Note:**

> *avril lavigne voice* he was an actor, and he was a stunt double. can we make it anymore obvious?

Considering it was in the job description, Keith was used to pulling all sorts of stunts. But jumping single-handedly from a window on the first floor of a building in the heart of hollywood studios, catching the lamppost to slide down like a fireman pole, was a little unprecedented. Because this actually wasn’t part of the job description, or the status quo. It was unfilmed.

“Get back here you _extravagantly acrobatic_ punk!”

And clearly unscripted.

Keith wasn’t entirely sure how it came to this. Apparently, a high-collared retro red jacket and combat boots was automatically cause for suspicious activity on set. The security guard Varkon had immediately taken issue with him. It could also have something to do with the knife he had been carrying - a _prop_ for the movie, mind you. Still, the guard had startled him. Horribly lost and horribly late, Keith handled the situation equally horribly. Instead of stopping to resolve the situation, he tucked the knife away into his belt and started running away.

There was only so much parkour in the world that would keep Keith from having to try and explain a situation that had escalated so far out of his control. And the fact Varkon was riding a scooter was not making things any easier. Keith did the math. It was only a matter of time until Varkon caught up to him. Scanning the surroundings for something, Keith took a sharp right between two buildings. And that was when he saw it on the horizon, a collection of trailers. It wasn't the best plan, but right now it was all he had. Wait it out. Call the director or somebody, and get this Varkon guy off his case.

He reached the collection of trailers, and headed towards the first one in sight. Forgoing reading the sign on the door, a star with the name TAKASHI SHIROGANE printed over it, Keith opened it without hesitation. In the height of trying to escape this ridiculous situation, he had forgotten to knock. Leaning back against the door, eyes pressed shut for a moment, Keith caught his breath back slowly.

Getting lost on set, outrunning security and running into someone’s empty trailer. Hollywood definitely was living up to its reputation. All on his first day, too.

Then Keith opened his eyes and discovered the absurdities of the day were far from over.

The trailer wasn’t empty.

**~**

Upon hearing the door open to his trailer, Shiro let out a sigh. He really didn’t want to deal with Allura this morning after the fight from last night. Well, it hadn’t been a fight per say, but it had definitely been rather heated. They were both stubborn in that regard, neither backing down from their stance. Allura was set on this romance movie that seemed promising whereas Shiro was much more interested in the action movie that he happened to _already be a part of_. He wanted to put all he could into this film, not be split between two.

So, when the door opened, he assumed it was Allura and started off in his best sour tone.

“Allura, I’m not interested in doing the movie, I don’t know how many times I have to-”

But he promptly cut off as he found that it was not Allura. Instead, a stranger with raven hair and intense eyes that somehow seemed capable of holding whole galaxies within them. Shiro stopped short, breath catching for a moment before his face melted into confusion.

Their eyes met across their room. Keith bit his lip and held the pause a fraction too long awkwardly.

“...Hi.”

“Uh,” Shiro glanced between the door and the stranger. “Can I help you?”

“I’m - it’s-”

Now Keith had not been expecting someone to be in here at all, or for the stranger to be so attractive. Nor had Shiro been expecting this unscheduled meeting. The two of them were thrown into this chance encounter. In a trailer. In Hollywood.

“Yeah. I mean, if you have some time. I’m sort of… lost.” _And being chased down by security_ , Keith decided was probably best to omit. Shiro glanced down at his phone on the desk. He should probably text someone. People had tried to sneak in and see him before, but they usually jumped straight to marriage proposals or autographs. This seemed different however, and he was capable of handling himself.

“I can do my best, but I’d like to know who I’m helping first. Especially considering he just barged into my trailer. What if I hadn’t been decent?”

The meanderings of Keith dissipated instantly. Frustration flashed in his eyes as he stepped forwards.

“Look. I’m _sorry_ about intruding on you like this, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m in a bit of a _sticky situation_ here. There’s some - some crazy security guard chasing me around this place.”

That's all it took. Keith felt the words get swept away with his own insistence. It had been a Day.

“And I know that probably sounds really strange and _weird_ but just hear me out for a second. I do actually work here.” His quickly displayed the ID tucked into his t-shirt. “But I’m new and I’m really lost. It’s just - this place is _so big_ and I’ve never worked in a studio like this before. And just because I’m not a famous recognisable actor doesn’t mean I’m trouble.” He scoffed. “ And a lot of people would find themselves _in_ trouble without me around.”

Keith had worked hard to get to this moment in his career. In that time he had definitely seen some things. A lot of actors liked to think they could do all the stunts themselves, even offering him constructive criticism as if they were the experts in his own field. 

“Hey, okay, I was just joking around.” Shiro held both hands up in surrender, with the hint of a smile at this passionate and animated stranger.Apparently, Keith looked more worked up than intended. “So what do you do around here? What are you looking for? And what do you mean a lot of people would be in trouble?”

Twenty questions was a game Keith despised.

“I’m a stunt double, looking for Studio Two. Though I was _meant_ to be going to some on site trailer Twelve E first.” A shrug. “Wouldn’t people be in trouble if _you_ didn’t do your job? Guessing you’re an actor.” Keith’s eyes trailed down Shiro’s face slowly, taking in the chiselled jaw, dark eyes, smooth nose. It was the kind of face you could stare at for some time and still find something interesting, find stories. Beautiful and born for Hollywood.

“You look like one.”

“Wait, Studio Two? You’re on set for _The Black Paladin?_ ” Shiro deflected the comment swiftly. That was not a conversation he wanted to have, and it was unclear if that was a compliment or simply a comment. The stranger’s expression hadn’t changed in the delivery. More important information had come to light, also. _Shocking_ information.

“Oh, stunt double. That’s cool. I wish I could do my own stunts again.”

“Yeah today is my first day. No _planned_ stunts exactly, just…” Keith tried not to be obvious in looking down at the prosthetic arm, piecing things together. “Other stuff.”

Shiro watched, half-expecting a question. His fist in that hand clenched for a moment before becoming slack again. Nothing. Seeing as he had questions of his _own_ , he cleared his throat. He had to know. It couldn’t be ignored any longer.

“Do… you _not_ know who I am?”

The reaction Shiro got in response, an arched eyebrow, confirmed it. _Should I,_ Keith wanted to say. But the man sat at the desk had been nothing but accommodating so far. Accidentally sounding rude wouldn’t gain Keith any favours in getting help from him.

“From what you just told me, I think you’re also working on _The_ _Black Paladin.”_

Shiro blinked. He gave Keith an incredulous look. This had never happened before. This was entirely new; uncharted territory.

“I sorta _am_ the Black Paladin.”

The manner in which Shiro said this momentarily startled Keith. No arrogance in informing Keith of his job, despite having the _leading role_ in the film.

“Well, congratulations. That sounds like a pretty important job,” Keith reached into his pockets, and took out the map he’d been provided with. He was really very, very late by this point.

“Y-Yeah, thanks.”

“Do you think you can show me where Studio Two is? Sounds like we work in the same place.”

The map was spread across the desk. Shiro, genuinely confused and stumped by all of this, caught up and leant forwards to get a better look.

“Uh sure, I can help.” Shiro pointed down at their current location. “So, here abouts is where my trailer is. Studio Two is right over here.” His finger moved, as did his eyes to stare at the stranger. Keith remained focused on the map, lips pursed in concentration.

“That doesn’t even make any sense. None of the buildings have any kind of coherent structure to them. Why place Studio Two towards the end of _hangar Nine?”_ His finger traced across the path, accidentally bumping into Shiro’s. There was no hollywood spark of electricity, but Keith pulled back just as quickly.

“Wow. I really went off-track.”

Shiro laughed.

“Just a bit there, buddy.” 

 _Just a bit_ hardly covered it.

“Thanks. Um…”

The pause stretched out. Shiro took a moment to realise what it was for. Sticking out his hand, he smiled.

“Oh, Shiro.”

“Shiro.” Keith repeated the name, shaking his hand firmly. “My name’s K-”

Suddenly, the door was flung wide open, revealing everything the stunt double had been fearing. Varkon. Keith released Shiro’s hand, exasperation hovering above him like a cloud ready to rain down on this whole parade.

“Alright now I’ve got you. STICK EM UP PUNKERDOODLE!”

“I’m not a punkerdoodle.” Did Keith stutter? No, he did not. “I’m a stunt double. And I happen to work here.”

“Likely excuses. That still doesn’t explain you carrying a _knife!”_

Keith pulled the knife out, which was probably the worst idea considering how Varkon immediately became less pleased. There was a quiet gasp from Shiro.

" _It’s a prop_!” Keith corrected flatly. One of his signature props, and also an item that bore a wealth of personal meaning. The knife was given to him originally by his father, and due to it’s interesting design had caught the attention on set of a film. As a result, it was used in one of his first stunt double scenes. Through the years, Keith had carried it most places it was permitted, and often was encouraged to use it in scenes requiring a blade of that size.

“Is this _really necessary_? He’s not a threat and he already said he works here.” Keith looked over to Shiro in unmasked shock. There was no real reason for the other to stand up for him, or help. But the actor was. “It’s fine, Varkon. You can leave.”

“No sir. I’m afraid that’s not possible. You’re involved in a situation and it’s my duty to make sure all risks are... _eliminated.”_

Whatever movies Varkon had been watching, Keith thought he should really start to mix it up a little. The lines were starting to border cliché. With a sigh, he walked towards the window in the fancy kitchen area. To some it may be described as small, but it was definitely bigger than the kitchen in _Keith’s house_.

“It was… good to meet you.” It was. Despite everything else. “Thanks for helping me out with directions. And- sorry about this.”

In one swift fluid movement, Keith jumped onto the kitchen counter, unhooking the window.

“Wait!” Shiro called out. Keith wasn’t sure why, but he stopped immediately. Eyebrow raised, he waited for an explanation. This was not how escapes tended to work.

“What’s your name?”

Or maybe it was. One leg already out the window, Keith grinned over at Shiro. He was in _hollywood_ and he was talking to a charming handsome actor whilst climbing out a window (again). The whole thing was dramatic. There was no greater opportunity to do this than now.

“Name’s Kogane.” A small salute. “Keith Kogane.”

**~**

“Shiro!” Allura’s voice rang sharp, even if she was still outside the trailer. The door opened and in walked his agent, looking a little like she had just run a marathon in her heels. Shiro wouldn’t be surprised if that was something she could do. Allura achieved anything she set her mind to. Her usually well kept bun was frazzled, bits of white hair falling out. Yet it still looked excellent. What didn’t look so excellent was the fact her brow was drawn together in concern and a bit of fear.

“Allura, are you alright?” Shiro asked, stepping towards her and the door to close it and give them a little privacy.

“Me?! I’m not the one who had to deal with someone breaking into your trailer! I should be asking you that!” Bright, colourful eyes began to scan his body before darting around the room. Clearly searching for the source of all this trouble or at least a clue, only to be unsuccessful because he had long since _climbed out the window_. Shiro let out a huff of laughter, a grin breaking out into his face.

“Don’t even worry about it. It was one of the stunt doubles for _The_ _Black Paladin._ His name’s Keith.” There was a bit of a smile on his lips as he spoke. Then without ceremony Shiro went over to the modest desk to grab his phone. Keith had left the map here, he realised.

“You’re _impossible_ , you know that?” Allura’s voice seemed serious, but Shiro knew there was a smile on her face, even without turning around. “I get an emergency text from Varkon saying you had an intruder who then escaped out the window. And you’re just so _casual_ about it.”

“He was lost, Allura. He didn’t even seem to know who I was at all-”

“-What do you _mean_ he didn’t know? You’re _Takashi Shirogane_ , one of the most famous up and coming actors in Hollywood. How can he _not_ know who you are?”

Shiro shrugged.

“I don’t know. But it was kinda nice to talk to someone who didn’t see me as some big star, and just saw me as a person.”

“You _are_ a person, Shiro. But you also are a big star. Don’t let anyone think they can walk over that. You've so worked hard for this.”

Shiro didn’t answer. He had his own opinion on the matter and didn’t feel like getting into another argument with Allura. So he shrugged again, then grabbed his wallet, putting it into his pocket. He liked not having to feel like the big name star who should have the ground he walked on worshipped. He was never that sort of guy. People idolised him without his input on the matter. So having someone not know who he was, it was a nice, and welcomed, surprise. A part of Shiro hoped he would run into Keith again. Maybe he could do something for him, since Varkon probably chased right after him. The map still needed returning, if he had to reach.

“You wanna grab something to eat? I’ll pay,” Shiro said casually, giving a small smile to Allura. The tension in her shoulders waned instantly as relief flooded her face.

“You better. And I’m going to order _two desserts_ , both of which are for myself because that’s what you’ve pushed me to.” Allura snarked back, elbowing him in the rib playfully.

“Alright, but don’t yell at me when I steal a couple bites.” He opened the door to the trailer and let her exit. It was a joke, but Allura didn't move to the door regardless of that. Her head bowed, hands clasped together.

“I wouldn't yell at you, Shiro. I suppose I shouldn't have pushed yesterday. I was only trying to do what I thought was best for your career. But I can see it's your decision too.” She doesn't wait for a response. Maybe she also thought they had talked enough about this. Dusting down her suit, Allura stepped out the trailer. “And what nonsense, you will do no such thing. Because I’m going to be ordering everything with almonds.”

“That’s just cruel.” Shiro laughed, closing the door to the trailer.

**~**

By the time Keith got home, the sun had set. After leaving the trailer, he managed to find Studio Two and walk through one of the bigger stunts in the movie without any hiccups. Varkon had been appeased _for now_ by the assistant on set. The look he was cast had been mistrusting and sceptical. But it was something Keith was used to, so he thought little of it. Besides, he had _enough thoughts_ to deal with. Throughout most of the meeting, his mind had wandered constantly to the person he met in that trailer.

Takashi Shirogane.

Slipping off his shoes and jacket half shrugged off, he trudged down the hallway. The sounds of a happy kitchen greeted him. And by that, Keith meant he could hear Lance singing along to some catchy pop song whilst cooking. Enough for two, Keith sincerely hoped. Not that Keith ever hoped for much. Hope was a fickle and intangible. A terrible thing to trust. But he still hoped, because the last time he had eaten had to have been the hastily made sandwich in the morning.

One of the perks about living with Lance, his friend of around six years now - somehow, was that his warm smile could truly light up the entire room. Keith was not a metaphor kind of guy, but that’s exactly how it felt when he stepped in with an absent _tired_ hybrid of a wave and a salute. Peering over Lance’s shoulder into the pan revealed that there was also enough pasta for two. Score. Though Keith shouldn’t be that surprised. Lance was generous enough to make meals for the both of them at least five times a week.

Through dicing some extra vegetables for the sauce and setting the table, conversation passed easily through them. _How was the pool?_ Extra onions tossed into the bowl haphazardly when Lance looked away for a second. _Fine. Though some dude tried to do some kind of stunt in the water in front of his friends. I almost had to go in and get him._ Keith laughed at that. _He reminded me of you for a second._ Keith did not laugh at _that_ **,** eyes narrowed. Lance knew he disliked being in the water, and doing stunts in it seemed counterproductive. In minutes the timer was set, not leaving long left until food glorious food. _Yeah well. At least you weren’t chased around by security and accidentally busted into The Black Paladin’s trailer._

And that was how the air of comfortable domesticity shattered.

"Woah, woah. Hold the phone! You met Shiro? Shiro as in _Takashi Shirogane-_ that Shiro?!" Lance exclaimed as Keith sat down at the kitchen table.

Running a hand down his face, Keith groaned. To think the events of today had just started to fizzle away into the background. It’s not something Keith was actively wanting to relive. He’d really gotten tangled up in a _giant mess._ The entire encounter was a disaster, the kind that scriptwriters would probably _dream_ of carefully constructing in fiction. And although Keith utterly adored Lance and would always do whatever necessary to look after him and make sure he was happy, he was losing patience right now. Being hungry and tired was part of the problem.

"Hi Keith." Keith said flatly, poorly mimicking Lance. "How was your first day on set _in hollywood_ ? I’m totally not just interested because you mentioned the _Black Paladin_."

Lance set down the spoon at that, at least having the _decency_ to grin sheepishly over in his direction. It lasted for about a second. Because immediately, Lance was back on topic. The hot topic, apparently. _Takashi Shirogane._ Star of _The_   _Black Paladin_ , of course. Keith really ought to have read up on the general plot of the movie. Or alternatively he could quiz Lance, a self-proclaimed expert on the franchise.

"Yeah, yeah. We'll talk all about that later Mr. grumpy gills, and how you _betrayed me_. But just tell me, are you serious?"

Irritable. Irritated. Irritably irritated. Keith was getting irritated because he was hungry and tired.

"No, Lance. I actually found _Kaltenecker_ on a nearby field-"

Throwback to that one time in college the pair of them had grown immeasurably attached to a local cow that resided a field just off campus. To the extent that they would pay it visits sometimes. Mostly Lance. Keith would never admit he had become fond of that damn cow.

"-What-"

Irritated.

"- _Yes,_ I met Takashi Shirogane!!” Hands outstretched, Keith raised his voice in exasperation. "What else is that supposed to mean?"

"Alright. Geesh. Cool your jets sarcasm 101." Lance responded as he moved over to drain the pasta. Keith glanced over at the timer, there were only a few minutes to go. "But keep talking. Because when you said you were on this _big deal_ movie you failed to mention the _name of it_ . The Black Paladin is going to be the most awesome movie of the _year,_ and Takashi Shirogane is the greatest actor of this generation _._ That guy's my hero, Keith!"

Keith didn't need to see Lance's face to know there was admiration and awe gleaming in his blue eyes. It was something Keith didn’t understand. Celebrity culture and fascination with people who really were just people at best. Not always good ones, either. Although something had been different about Shiro. Keith considered telling Lance about the way Shiro’s face scrunched up in confusion, and how his voice sounded heavy despite the calm way he dealt with the situation. But that felt like information Keith probably shouldn’t have known or noticed.

Pasta poured into bowls, Lance started on adding the sauce he’d left to simmer. Keith smelled the chilli, and it smelled fantastic. When Lance finally looked back over, Keith confirmed that yes - it was admiration and awe gleaming in his blue eyes. And that was something Keith had seen before in Lance many times. His friend always placed others higher above himself. Unreachable and unattainable, always believing that was reality and not his warped perception due to insecurity. If only Lance could see he was on the same footing as them. Steps _ahead_ even.

"Hey," Lance's voice pulled him back abruptly. Much closer. "Can you get me his autograph? Can I meet him? Do you think he'd want to become friends and-"

"-Lance.” Keith snapped tetchily. Irritability returned promptly. “I don't- I don't _KNOW_ okay? I just met him this once. He seems nice enough."

A huff. Lance wiggled his eyebrows, bringing the two pasta bowls to the table. Keith wondered what he ever did to deserve That Look. Or the ugly tablecloth Lance seemed to think was tasteful. Because it absolutely was in the opposite realm of tasteful. A neon yellow and green rubbery-plastic-y Thing. That was the appropriate way to describe the texture. With strange and needlessly sentient fruits with googly-eyes printed across it. Some mornings, Keith swore the Kiwis moved.

"I get what's happening here you sly fox." Lance's hand batted in his direction playfully. For a moment both their eyes closed. Keith out of summoning his waning ability to live and Lance out of amusement. "Don't tell me the details, then. I can read between the lines."

"You're being ridiculous." Keith picked up the fork, reaching for the pasta. Only Lance moved the bowl out of reach.

" _You're being ridiculous_."

"Good thing you're not an actor, because if that was supposed to be _me_ then I don't really know what to tell you, Lance."

"Buzz off you meanie." Lance pouted, arms cradling the pasta bowls as if they were his precious children. In some respects that was probably true. Lance was a brilliant cook, and Keith had heard him talking to the food before. Well, himself. But it was funnier and endearing to think about the alternative possibility.  

"Admit it, Keith. Without me, you would be rotting away on garbage microwave meals and tinned spam. I made this pasta for both of us but I'm not above eating your share."

"You wouldn't." Keith licked his lips. God he was hungry.

"I would."

What's more, Keith _knew_ Lance wasn't lying about this.

"...Sorry."

Pasta back in his possession after the apology, Keith smirked behind his fork.

" _Sorry_ your impressions are so shitty."

"You get one free pass, Keith." Chewing on the pasta, Lance hums appreciatively at the food. Keith could honestly agree with him there. It was damn good pasta. Grating a mountain of cheese onto the top helped things too. _Lactose Intolerance who_? The disapproving look from Lance did not deter him with the cheese, either. He was hungry.

"So," Lance pried the cheese from Keith’s hands, pointedly resealing it and going as far as to lean against it. Petty. That was definitely petty. "Do you think you'll see him again?"

"Don't know." Shrug between mouthfuls. "I'll be there for a while but it's not like this means he'll automatically be there at the same time."

"Well you could just... I dunno," Twirling the pasta around his fork, Lance paused. The epitome of unsubtle. And then there's the fact they're eating pasta, not spaghetti. It wouldn't twirl anyway. Whatever Lance was going to say, it was going to be something that he knew Keith would rebuff.

" _Go back to see him._ "

Oh.

"Why?"

"Come on, Keith!" Lance slammed the fork down. "Hunk and I can't be your only friends, it's exhausting. No offence." 

With a frown, Keith pierced through the remaining pasta pieces in his bowl. He knew Lance, knew he had one chance to interject and formulate a response, and he’d already missed it by this point. Lance was already leaning forwards to continue. But not before tossing the fork in the air and attempting to pull some kind of bizarre ‘cool’ stunt with it. It fell with a clang on the table clumsily, nowhere near his open palm where he seemed to think it would magically land.

“Impressive.” Keith drawled flatly.

It was not impressive.   
  
“Quit your snarking, Keith. I’m being serious.” So was Keith. “When was the last time you even _texted_ our prodigy NASA boy? He asks me how you’re doing like nine times a week. Sometimes more when it’s clucking hour-”   
  
“-Am I supposed to know what that is.”   
  
“It means he’s being a mother hen. You know, because hens cluck, and it also sounds like-”   
  
“-Can you just stop making up weird phrases and actually say what you mean.”   
  
“Pretty rich coming from you.”

To slip up like _that,_ Lance had to be just as tired. Because Keith always said what he meant. Every word had purpose and direction. No sugarcoating. No pointlessly shined words. Take it or leave it, what you saw was what you got. And Lance _knew_ that well enough by now. The fact he was resorting to petty digs that were baseless confirmed something that always made Keith’s insides churn uncomfortably. They were worried about him, his friends. Hunk. _Lance._ _  
_

There were only seven days in a week.

The number Lance had given was higher.

"I have other friends." Keith lied, because Keith did not have other friends. "Like-"

"-If you say Rolo I swear. He's your agent, and an unreliable one at that." Lance picked up his fork again, prodding it in Keith's direction accusingly.

"Fine." Unfortunately, Lance did have a point. Rolo wasn’t the best at keeping in contact but somehow managed to supply Keith with regular work. " _Maybe_ I'll go and talk to him again. Even if the security guard seems to think I'm some kind of celebrity stalker-murderer." The sarcasm dripped through the end of the words, but Lance was unfazed. Or to be more accurate: _immune._

"Good, Keith. First it's smalltalk, then it's getting invited to big VIP parties and cool junk like that!" Lance excitedly explained. "Can't wait. We're gonna be living the good life."

"Yeah. If I'm not _arrested by Varkon_." Picking up the empty bowls, Keith moved towards the sink. That was the deal between them. When Lance cooked, Keith washed up. Equivalent exchange - they had both agreed after a particularly intense rewatch of Fullmetal Alchemist.

"Relax. Shiro likes you, he'll let you back in without a problem. I can tell. I know these things."

Keith pushed a hand into the dishwater to test it, wincing at the temperature. A little too hot. That or Lance’s words were too impossible to comprehend. It was easier to accept the former.

"You can't _possibly_ know that, Lance. You haven't even met Shiro." Empathetic and friendly Keith believed were qualities Lance possessed. Psychic powers not so much.

"But I've met you."

The tone was soft, kind. It made Keith almost drop the bowls entirely. He remained focused on the washing up, back turned to his ridiculous friend who should have stopped talking by now but was still going.

"And I know despite your _tragic edgelord aura_ , you are a decent person.”

“Whatever. He was only helping me out because I asked.” It was a poor excuse. Keith didn’t know that for sure, and he had a feeling Shiro would’ve helped him anyway. Even if Varkon had terrible timing, cutting their first introduction short.

“It’s getting late, Lance. Don’t you have to be up at stupid O’clock?”

He wasn’t deliberately trying to shoo Lance away, but the words affected him more than he expected them to. Thankfully, Lance took the hint. But not before pressing a quick kiss into Keith’s hair that Keith _felt_ more than saw because his back was still turned stubbornly towards the dishes.

“Ew.” They both said immediately afterwards.

“Wash your mullet _mullet_ , it’s getting greasy.”

“Wash your mouth, it’s full of trash.”

Lance said nothing, undoubtedly catching the undertones in that. What Keith was _really_ saying to him. _Thank you for saying that._ One hair ruffle and two playful nudges later, Lance finally left Keith in peace. Though the quiet wasn’t welcomed in the slightest, despite Keith _liking_ the quiet. Especially when the only thing Keith could find resonating in the space between was a curious amalgamation of Varkon’s voice and Shiro’s bemused smile.


	2. of capri suns and car conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no capri suns were harmed in the making of this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before we delve in there are a few warnings for this chapter (we've decided to warn on a chapter-by-chapter basis as and when): 
> 
> \- mention of past abusive relationships  
> \- mention of motor accidents
> 
> if you are uncomfortable with any of this then it is prevalent from "Shiro had hoped Haxus would just pull up in a simple car,". 
> 
> Stay safe buds!!

Today was a new day. _Today was a new day._ Today was a new day.

Outside Studio Two on the second day of his new job, Keith embraced this as a private mantra. It was a new day, which meant no unplanned chase scenes or awkward introductions. No spontaneous climbing out of windows. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a normal, ordinary day. The more Keith eternalised this, the more apparent it became that there was literally no scope for something even more ridiculous and strange to occur.

So of course, when he finally opened the doors, Keith stepped into total _anarchy._ The universe did not work in mysterious ways at all; the universe was more _surreal_.

Or more accurately, as he was about to discover, _Takashi Shirogane’s_ universe was.

**~**

“Shiro, get _down from there_ this instance!”

What exactly Keith walked into, he had no idea. Whoever was shouting sounded particularly distressed. That made his pace quicken out of instinct, because they were also calling _Shiro’s_ name in that way. As he rounded the corner to the main set, what awaited him was something that had his confident steps faltering. A slow blink. It was early in the morning, and Keith was definitely not a morning person. Despite rising early, that did not mean he was _overjoyed_ about it.

But a few slower blinks, and the rubbing of his eyes, did not change the scene whatsoever. It was impossibly real. Arms folded, Keith walked up to the cluster of people that had formed around the main stage. One of the technician’s stood at the front, others huddled around as she worked on the portable workstation. Keith thought the technician’s hair looked like a homage to Albert Einstein. Their oversized hoodie looked comfortable, extremely snuggly. He wondered if it was lined with wool inside. It took restraint not to touch the hood and find out. Holy macaroni of the pasta gods. It was too early for unfolding conspiracies. Keith just wanted to jump back into bed.

 _Or_ jump into a stunt.

Neither would be happening anytime soon.

“Okay everybody, _personal space_ is a thing and I’d like it right about now!” The technician said in a frustrated voice, pausing in her typing. A glance around had most of the group jolting backwards immediately. All besides one, who held her ground. Got closer, even.

“Allura.”

So that was her name, then.

“Pidge. Can’t you do something?! That’s my _client_ stuck up there.” Allura looked up. “Like _that._ ” Keith followed her gaze towards the cause of all this mayhem. It was definitely an _interesting_ sitting position. And it _definitely_ looked far from comfortable. Keith offered a small uncertain wave that was returned cheerfully -  _of all things_  - by Shiro.

Shiro, who was suspended on two lopsided platforms roughly sixty feet in the air, doing the most impressive version of the _splits_ Keith had ever seen. It seemed to be keeping him upright across the gap. But the amount of core strength and flexibility it took to hold that position was something Keith envied. Fluid and agile, Keith was. Ultra bendy, not so much.

“What’s… uh, going on?” He blurted out, both confused and curious. “What’s he doing up there?"

Keith went promptly ignored by Allura and Pidge, the conversation uninterrupted by his musings. Keith couldn’t exactly blame them, but he didn’t feel any less bitter about it. That sensation always stung a fraction more than he wanted it to.

“Sorry Allura, but the split in the platform has jammed the signal big time. Shiro won’t be getting down from there until I can figure out how to calibrate the system. For now, it should stay relatively fixed.”

“ _Should_?”

“Relatively.” Keith glanced up at the scene.

“There are a number of variables in this situation: the platform splits more, the platform loses support and falls, the platform re-aligns with Shiro’s weight, nothing happens and we sit here for hours trying to decide what to do.” Pidge reeled them off on her fingers. “But it’s not all bad. There’s only three outcomes where he dies, and the probability is at 0.0004567%.”

Apparently, the words were not exactly comforting to the team fretting around. Keith had seen things go wrong on films all the time. From misprints to lighting, to audio to technical power surges. The illusion of things being smooth sailing and fluid on set was just that. A perfect illusion. It was somewhat reassuring to discover Hollywood was just the same. Even if that discovery came in such strange circumstances.

“That’s an unhelpfully specific observation.” Keith remarked with an absent hum, half-serious half-sarcastic, and _that_ seemed to merit a response.

“That’s _math_ for you.” The technician explained with a wry smile, not at all fazed by new company. Keith wasn’t sure why he actually took the coffee cup that _wasn’t his_ when it was held out expectantly towards him. Cup discarded, typing continued. “Pidge. She or they is fine. You must be Keith. Matt told me all about you, he’s quite the fan of your work.”

It pieced together quickly, then. Matt Holt, the stunt choreographer for _The Black Paladin,_ currently working in New Zealand on _Rebels,_ was related to Pidge. Considering they had yet to even talk properly, it was surprising to hear Matt had mentioned him. _Fan of your work._ Momentarily startled, Keith pursed his lips. He’d been quiet a second too long now. Pidge was looking at him quizzically.

“So… _are you_ Keith, or are you stunt double Keith’s stunt double?” She prompted, snorting at her own joke.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me - Keith, I mean. The stunt double.” Staring down at the coffee, Keith drums a finger against the cup in a steady rhythm. Fast and driving. Smalltalk was something he greatly disliked. Though with the backdrop of Shiro’s situation, it was a little easier. Pidge helped too, seeming equally disinclined to say more than what needed to be said.

“Does this kind of thing usually happen? What happened anyway?”  

According to Pidge, it was supposed to be a simple scene. Shiro would shoot the first scene up top, make his way down from the supposed training deck whilst the platform lowered automatically, and then talk to other members of the cast to continue. But that was exactly when trouble occurred, and the platform split in half at the top, leaving Shiro straddled between the two, unable to pull himself to either side without possibly falling. 

As Pidge started going into depth about the platform malfunction, Keith could feel a pair of eyes locked on him. He shrugged it off, nodding in the right places at the story. It was a few sentences in that Keith realised the commanding figure beside Pidge had fallen silent for a moment. As he glanced over to Allura, it became clear why. She was the person watching him, intently and with something that had Keith inclining his head boldly.

“Keith. I’m Shiro’s agent, Allura. In future, I’d advise _against_ breaking into my client’s trailer brandishing a knife.”

The strong british accent made her words sound a little harsher, less rounded. Keith felt his jaw clench but didn’t wince. He caught Allura’s amused smile lingering on the corner of her mouth _too late_. Immediately, Keith felt foolish for misunderstanding her. Allura laughed, somehow two steps ahead of him which was offsetting and unsettling. But Keith would take some comfort in discovering she was naturally two steps ahead of _everyone._ He could catch up soon enough.

“Allura. It’s nice to meet you.”

“- _Knife_ to meet you.” Pidge corrected, accompanied by an unimpressed huff. “Come on you guys. Do I have to do all the work around here?”

Ah, that was a pun.

“What’s the current situation, Pidge?” Allura asked.

And with that, Keith was promptly forgotten again in favour of studying the screen. This time, he was okay with that. Taking this opportunity, he slid past the group and onto the main stage. Keith studied the platforms carefully. The one on the sidelines, half constructed but sturdy enough in composition, was the best bet. And that’s all he needed to know. Mind made up, Keith moved with fluency and began to climb. Then, inducing gasps amongst people around, he leapt onto the dangling pole and swung. It took a few swings to propel himself up to the next pole adjacent to Shiro’s faulty platform. But from then it was much easier. A little like elaborate monkey bars. Enough momentum built, Keith jumped.

Landing opposite Shiro, light on his feet, Keith dangled his legs over the side precariously. People were now crowded around the perimeter below. Allura looked a mixture of outraged and concerned. Pidge was grinning, mouthing what looked like ‘cool’. She gave Keith a thumbs up who swiftly returned it. Next to him, Shiro was gaping in awe. By the time Keith looked over, the expression was softer.

“Nice view.” Keith said casually, as if he’d been sat up there the entire time.

Recollecting himself fully, Shiro nodded. Keith was a stunt double, _that was his job._ Of course he was going to be able to do things like that without breaking a sweat. It looked so easy, so beautifully graceful yet sharp. Shiro clenched the metal fist at his side. Sometimes, he really missed that level of acrobatic freedom.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“You’re having quite the week.”

“I don’t know about that,” Shiro chuckled. “It’s only Tuesday.”

“Juice?” Reaching into the fanny packs, Keith pulled out two capri suns. He tossed one over to Shiro, who caught it without problem and let out a hearty, full laugh. Keith couldn’t help but join in. This was far from the _average work day._ Down below them, the calamity was only growing.  

“Oh,” Shiro brought the juice pouch away from his lips and carefully leaned forward on his leg, reaching into his back pocket. Keith’s gaze followed his hands, out of curiosity mostly. Because how Shiro was comfortable, how he could even _reach that far_ in this position, he did not know. What was retrieved from said pocket was a crumpled piece of folded paper. Shiro held it out, eyes dancing with private amusement. Keith raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

“Yours. You left your map in my trailer.”

Keith wondered if he also left his _dignity,_ because the noise he made was completely undignified. A clumsy mash-up of a snort and raspy laughter. Shiro seemed to only smile wider.

“Thanks. So, how long do you think we’ll be stuck up here?”

“I’m not sure.” Shiro admitted, a slight frown crossed his face. He may be calm about this, but Allura wasn’t. She paced back and forth, hand worrying her lip. Two desserts might not be enough this time.

Taking the map from Shiro’s hand, Keith felt one half of the platform shift. In the process of readjusting their weight, the juice slid out of Shiro’s hands. Down, down, down it went towards the ground. Keith watched it go. It took approximately three seconds for impact.

“Orange you glad I didn’t fall too.”

Incredulously, Keith snapped his focus back to Shiro. No, _no._ He couldn’t have heard that right, there was _no way._ Unfortunately, the look on Shiro’s face said otherwise. He was impossibly merry for this hour of the day, giddy in a way that came hand in hand with a terrible joke. Whilst Keith had an extra juice pack to hand, that luxury was now revoked in light of this. Keith took a breath. He needed a Moment, because he had to make something absolutely _clear._

“Shiro. I’ve known you for less than two days, but that is the worst thing anyone has ever said to me.”

**~**

It turned out that working on a big Hollywood movie was not _all that different_ to the jobs Keith had done before. Things had finally started to run as he’d expected, there were just more pairs of hands to chip in. There were also frenetic security guards that _still_ held a grudge against him - but at least Varkon no longer chased after him.

Generally speaking, everything was bigger here. The sheer scale of the projects surpassed levels Keith thought possible. The exciting part was that definitely included the stunts, too. Matt had poured real vision and ingenuity in the choreography. A lot of the movements were wonderfully crafted, which Keith then breathed his passion into. During their video calls and walkthroughs, Matt tended to even encourage Keith to deviate at times and follow his own instincts. The amalgamation of their efforts, Pidge chipping in to go through the technicalities of stunts, had started to produce some truly breathtaking scenes.  

So it went without saying that Keith had naturally become attuned to the work.

But what Keith hadn’t gotten used to over the past few weeks were the people. _People everywhere._ And right at the centre of the swarm of people was Takashi Shirogane. They hounded him like starved dogs, chasing after him for leftovers and whatever they could grab. They strived to be part of his every waking moment, possess his attention. The press. Fans. Even around the outskirts of the studio, Shiro was being constantly approached by someone for something. People always wanted something from him. Sometimes just his smile, as if they expected him to always be wearing it. No, they seemed to _demand_ that and so much more from him. And that irked Keith greatly. Disgusted him.

Because this was a _person_ , not a trophy.

Leaving the studio was even worse, like leaving a strange, giant bubble. The world inside was so strikingly different to the world outside. And for Shiro, that was experienced tenfold. For example: Keith could walk down the road to his motorbike, ride twelve blocks home without disruption. He could go to the shops and grab food, he could go for a walk through the local park without people so much as batting an eyelid and realising that yes **he** was the one that did that awesome and incredibly dangerous stunt in _The Blades Of Marmora._ He talked about the cool car scene he did not in front of a reporter, but lounging in his pyjamas with Lance.

Yet the minute Shiro set foot off stage, let down his mask, he was prey for the taking. And if there was one thing people did well, it was _take._ Take as much as possible, then up and leave.

Keith knew that well enough.

“Sorry you had to deal with those reporters earlier.” Shiro tugged his attention back to the small private booth they were huddled into. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Keith said, still a little shaken by his first encounter of how _suffocating_ fame could be. They had been pretty much trapped in a sea of intrusive people. If Allura hadn’t been there to assume authority and chart out a course with fierce persistence, then they could have been stuck there far longer. Longer than the two hours he and Shiro had spent suspended in the air on his second day on set, even.

Keith stirred the spoon round in his black decaffeinated tea slowly. It was somewhat therapeutic to watch the movement.

“They’ll say you punched him.” Shiro said after a sip of his coffee.

“Oh come on, you can't be serious. My fist wasn’t anywhere near his face.” It wasn’t. They’d grabbed him first. Keith simply shrugged them off firmly.

“Doesn’t matter to them.”

“It matters to me. I’m not like that.”

Done was Keith with the assumption that he's inherently violent and aggressive because of a resting bitch face that wasn't even really that bitchy. More neutral. Everyone got angry. Everyone got upset. Everyone felt things. Keith was no different. Lance stopped calling him a hothead three years ago, tied with an apology. But it was a reminder that for reasons beyond his understanding, showing the sheer depth and intensity of his emotions always went this way.

“I know you're not.”

 _You don't know me,_ Keith wanted to say but couldn't. Part of him was foolish enough to believe Shiro, the other part yearned to believe it. He looked over; their eyes met.

“They were simply aiming to provoke you in order to take a photograph that would match an unfavourable headline.” Allura chipped in, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked agitated. Keith wasn’t quite sure why. _He_ was the one new to all of this, her client handled it with impressive tact and composure.

“People don’t really believe them though-... do they?” Keith would like to think people had enough critical thinking skills and common sense to come to their own conclusions. But he couldn’t be sure. The world was strange place. _Hollywood_ was a stranger place. Shiro shrugged, somehow accustomed to all this. Keith couldn't decide if that was reassuring or concerning. Both, possibly.

“People will believe anything.”

That seemed to make something inside Allura snap, tension pouring out.

“Shiro’s right. And _believe me,_ Keith _._ Those people, the Galra especially - they cannot be trusted.”

And with that, she made her exit. Keith’s eyes trailed after her quietly. Her gait was tense, with forced purpose. As if she had been working her entire life to measure up to something that simply could not be measured. Confidence was woven into her strong demeanour and firm posture. But the closer you looked, the more splintered the picture became.

Shiro watched her go with a sad look on his face. The Galra had deeply hurt both of them, leaving scars that would never heal. He took another sip of his coffee, then turned his attention back to Keith. Looking as animated as ever, he endeavoured to change the subject fast. Throughout their time together, Keith had shown himself to be extremely observant. He had a keen attention to detail in unexpected places. But he was also intuitive, and Shiro hoped he would take the hint.

“I have to admit, I thought you’d be a coffee person.”

Following Shiro’s lead, Keith did in fact take the hint. This was not something he wanted to dwell on either. And so the conversation passed into something more trivial.

“Not really my thing. Besides, I’m bitter enough without adding coffee to the equation.”

That earnt Keith a laugh which felt as warm as the mug in his hand. _Thank you very much_ , copyright and full credit to Lance for that. That snide comment had been one that was actually pretty close to the raw truth. Setting the mug down, Keith watched Shiro carefully. There was an unfolding kaleidoscope of emotions phasing in and out of cycle.

Shiro wore all sorts of faces so convincingly, but sometimes his face was _worn_ by something Keith couldn’t name. Yes. There were untold stories here, lingering beneath the surface. Secrets, even. And that was _ironic_ considering how much the world liked to snoop and nose into the affairs of famous people. But Keith wasn’t one to judge or pry.

After all, he had a few untold stories of his own.

**~**

Leg swung up, delivering a powerful kick to the wooden door right in the weak patch marked by a small cross. It split immediately, allowing access further inside the scene. And that’s where the real stunt-work began. The wall built for the scene had small grooves. With the right angles of camera work it wouldn’t be noticeable, but it was enough to offer Keith some grip. Keith who, in agreement with the director and to their delight, decided this stunt would flow best without a harness. It wasn’t too difficult to do, nor a particularly far drop if he fell. Crash mats had been placed down on the ground as a precaution.

If anything, that just pushed Keith to perform better and get the job done. It had pushed him to continue despite the dizzying sensation in his head, or the shooting sharp burning in his spine. Because in no universe was he going to make use of the mats unless falling was part of the choreography. It was not a failure to fall, but in Keith’s mind it would be his biggest. It would mean giving into what consumed his body. It would mean allowing the _weakness_ a chance to creep through and take control. Making mistakes like that in front of other people couldn’t happen.

He could never lose control, never let that show.  

So with teeth gritted and a clenched jaw, Keith had pushed and pushed. Then pushed some more. He’d pushed until every muscle was protesting and throbbing in a deep ache that resembled a hammer smashing down on his skin intermittently. Working against gravity and his own body had proven difficult. _But not impossible._ By the time the stunt was finished, Keith could feel the fatigue washing over him in waves that shook his balance. Still, nodding politely at Pidge, Keith pretended he could process _what on earth_ she was even saying. Words were jumbled, a strange mesh of things just out of grasp. Pidge tended to get swept up, firing out a mass of words at an alarming rate.

Between the rambling, Keith thought he saw Shiro moving closer in his peripheral. He couldn’t be sure of much right now besides the fact he needed to leave, but it was enough. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, to click something was wrong. Especially _Shiro._

“Yeah. Sounds good, Pidge.” He said absently.

“Getting chased by a gaggle of geese sounds _good?"_

Keith saw the exit to both this conversation and the studio - he didn’t hesitate. First clenched around the keys to his motorbike, he darted out the door. Frustration pulsated through him, bursting vividly as he turned to kick a crate in the small alley he’d found himself down. _Damn this._ Right now, he couldn’t even find the amusement in the word gaggle. 

 

 **[text: to Lance]** it happened again. or maybe not. i think i’m just tired.

 

The response was immediate, which made Keith laugh humorlessly. And Lance had called _Hunk_ the motherhen.

 

 **[text: from Lance]** KEITH. you know what the word chronic means  
**[text: from Lance]** stop being a stubborn pain in the butt and making life harder for yourself.  
**[text: from Lance]** come on my dude.

 

 **[text: to Lance]** gee. thanks :-) .

 

 **[text: from Lance]** I !!! wasn’t !!! finished!!!   
**[text: from Lance]** don't be a smartass   
**[text: from Lance]**  sorry trying not to drop my phone in the pool here  
**[text: from Lance]** okay i’m in the office.   
**[text: from Lance]** holy guacamole.   
**[text: from Lance]** are you okay   
**[text: from Lance]**??

 

Wincing a little, Keith leant against the wall. He did not see the point in sending the question marks as a separate text. And he could already see where this one was going. Lance driving out here to get him was out of the question.  

 

  
**[text: to Lance]** i’m fine. don’t worry. i can get home.

 

 **[text: from Lance]** Keith.   
**[text: from Lance]** Answer me truthfully.   
**[text: from Lance]** NO LYING ALLOWED BECAUSE RN I CAN’T SEE YOUR TERRIBLE LYING FACE.   


 

It was true, Keith had a terrible lying face.

 

 **[text: from Lance]** are you SURE you can ride back??   
**[text: from Lance]** are you feeling dizzy

 **[text: to Lance]** no.

 

Yes, a little.

Pocketing his phone, already vibrating with what he assumed would be an endless stream of texts from Lance, Keith left the alleyway.

And walked straight into Shiro. Of course, _who else._

“I’m fine.” Keith said quickly before a question could even be asked. It was evasion at its worst, obvious and poorly executed.

“Let’s sit down for a minute, yeah?”

Shiro could see that Keith was definitely _not_ fine, but he wasn't going to pry. He just wanted to help in any way that he could.

Agitatedly, Keith followed Shiro to the bench outside the studio. For a moment, he considered if taking a seat would be defeat. But Shiro’s pat on the space beside him was encouraging. Keith sat. That didn’t mean he was going to _talk._

“What are you _doing here,_ anyway?” His voice had an unusual bite to it, tolerance gone. He wasn’t particularly _thrilled_ about Shiro bearing witness to this, the agonising sting at the back of his head helped nothing either. “I thought you were still filming that other scene in Studio Three?”

_Divert attention away. Move away from this. Get away from-_

"-The actress I'm supposed to be working with is being a diva, as most big names are. So she called for a half hour break." Shiro continued with the conversation, easily seeing that Keith wasn’t ready to talk yet. He knew that Keith would talk about it when he was ready. "I actually miss when I was a no name. At least then the people I worked with weren't such uptight, ‘I’m-Too-Good-For-You’ A-holes."

 _A-holes._ Just like that, the escape Shiro provided was welcomed. Keith had dropped the tension in his shoulders without even realising, until he was almost slumped against the bench as he laughed. It hurt, but that slipped into the background because something about Shiro’s presence had the ability to soften the atmosphere around. Perhaps this was why so many people were drawn towards the actor, wanted to find themselves in his orbit. Sitting here, the universe didn’t feel any better or nicer. It just felt more substantial. Keith wasn’t really sure what that meant, only that he wanted it to carry on.

His eyes gleamed mischievously, trailing up Shiro’s face.

“Believe me, I’ve worked with some real drama queens before. Not sure if you’ve heard about this guy called _Takashi Shirogane._ He’s a real piece of work.”

"At least I _know_ I'm a piece of work,” Shiro said, a lopsided smile on his face, almost in disbelief at the _cheek_ of the statement. “These other divas don't realize it. And then they wonder why no one wants to make a movie with them."

Keith frowned.

“ _Hey._ I was just messing around. You’re… probably the nicest actor I’ve met.” Person. Not just actor.

“Probably?” A wry smile.

“ _Maybe_ not probably. Ha, guess we’ll have to see...”

Shiro just shrugged, grey hues looking away for the first time. He thought back to some of the things he and Allura argued over. Some were stupid whilst others had ended with neither talking to the other for a few weeks. It was then he noticed how almost _deserted_ the area was outside the studio. Not one member of the team had followed Keith out here. He frowned, turning his attention back to the stunt double.

"The people on set treating you alright? I noticed that no one besides Pidge came over to talk to you, not even the actor you're stunt doubling for."

“I do the job, I go home.” Keith explained, never one to hold expectations over people. Especially actors. They were just as busy people, and getting a glimpse into the world that surrounded Shiro gave some insight. It didn’t excuse some behaviour, but it made sense.

“The guy I’m stunt doubling- Steve? Stan? Sebastian? _Steve_ \- is...”

Glancing over to Shiro, Keith grinned teasingly and made quotation marks with his fingers.

“An _‘A-hole’._ Apparently, he blew up at some people yesterday. Not sure why, Pidge told me about it.”

“I _hate_ actors who are like that.” Shiro spat, an agitated look appearing on his face. “You're the one doing all the intense work, sometimes _risking your life,_ and they don't even acknowledge you."

He looked over at Keith. A beat. “Do you wanna ditch?”

“What is this, school?” Keith scoffed. Who knew _Takashi Shirogane_ was such a rebel, skiving off work to run away with a stunt double. It wasn’t until Shiro laughed Keith realised in the haze of what was his _mind,_ he’d said that out loud.

“You'd be surprised. My little brother and I used to sneak out all the time to go to this little field near our house, just so we could watch the stars." Shiro smiled softly at the memory, though it quickly faded as an unpleasant memory appeared as well. Unfortunately, that happened a lot nowadays.

"Lance and I used to sneak out our dorms at college too, not for stars though. For Kaltenecker. A cow." Keith visibly cringed, pointedly looking anywhere but at Shiro. He was unsure _why_ that random and embarrassing piece of information had slipped out. Unlike Lance, he’d never thought to tell anybody that story before.

"That’s nice?” Shiro raised an eyebrow in bemusement, hoping to hear more, but it didn't appear Keith would give more information. “We can head back to my place, if that sounds good to you."

That had Keith sitting up, forcing his way through the sluggish thick layer of fatigue and pain swathed around his body. Going back to Shiro’s _house_ was a lot to process. Not to mention the prospect of being followed. Or being seen leaving together. People liked to talk, and being a celebrity meant that Shiro was one of the top conversation topics. Coffee had been hard enough to organise without a ridiculous article in a column on the whole trip. Keith remembered a word that rose up through the text, one he couldn’t say. It nestled uncomfortably in his chest, prodding. Difficult.

 _‘Stunt double turned bodyguard: Keith Kogane makes things difficult for unsuspecting press with violent outburst’_ . The unsuspecting innocent Press who could do no wrong, the unsuspecting press who just wanted a harmless chitchat with Shiro. The same group of _unsuspecting_ people who had cornered them, _harassed_ them and tried to physically wedge them apart.

Yeah, _right._

“I’ve got my bike parked nearby. I can just… drive home.”

"Are you sure it’s _safe_ for you to ride your bike?"

“Why wouldn't it be.” Keith challenged instinctively, eyes sharp and bursting with raw intensity. It was all too easy to slip back into evasion. Voicing it was unthinkable.

Shiro, to his surprise, did not seem startled by the abrupt shift in tone.

“Everyone has off days, Keith.”

Resolve gave way to something tentative at the words. The phone in Keith’s pocket was still buzzing. Lance was probably worried. Shiro looked a little worried, too. Looking down at his phone should’ve been an easier sight than Shiro’s face. But Keith found there were three missed calls and seven texts.

 

 **[text: to Lance]** shiro is taking me back to his place for a while. and NO it’s not like that so don’t get any ideas. see you at home later. x

 

Signed, sealed, delivered. Keith turned his focus back to Shiro.

“...Is it really okay for me to go back to yours?”

“Yeah, come on. I’ll text my driver to pick us up now.”

**~**

Shiro had hoped Haxus would just pull up in a simple car, but instead he showed up with the flashy black limo. So into the back they climbed, a few stray camera flashes exploding in the background, an impromptu firework display fizzling around them. Shiro scowled into the car, sunglasses shielding his eyes. Even with his eyes hidden, it was a face he couldn’t share with the press lest it become a ridiculous headline. People would do anything for a good story. He knew that well enough.

Out of spite, Keith flipped the bird in their direction before closing the limo door. Lance was going to love that. Rolo would pretend not to for a few days. The driver, Haxus, drove with immediate effect. And off they went, as smoothly as the soft jazz emanating through the car. Shiro said nothing, letting the lapse of conversation linger. He was concerned for whatever Keith was dealing with, but didn’t want to be overbearing. Against the music Haxus always enjoyed playing, he was content to listen and observe.

That was until he caught Keith glance over at him, at his arm specifically.

Not twice, but three times.

“You can ask about it, you know.” He said softly, watching as Keith’s wide eyes darted up to meet his, almost in a blurred panic.

“Sorry. Shiro, it’s - I didn't mean to-”

“It's okay, Keith. I trust you.”

Keith sucked in a breath at the words. _Trust._ With a firm nod and permission granted, he asked the question burning on the tip of his tongue.

“What - uh, what happened?”

“I don't know how much you know about my past but about a year and a half ago, I was in a relationship with this guy named Sendak. He’s been in a few big name movies, but he’s mostly known for working with the company, Galra Press. I was still sorta new to the Hollywood scene, so he took me in. He was really kind to me… At first.” His voice held nothing but bitterness and anger and _hatred_. Shiro's steel grey eyes were staring down at the arm, the flesh hand pressing various what would be pressure points into the fake one. It was like he expected something to happen, even though he knew he would never feel anything in that arm again.

“I didn't realize until it was too late that he had been manipulating me to do unspeakable things for him, all because he made me think I had to… to _prove_ myself to him and everyone else in this city.” He paused for a moment, contemplating. He had said he trusted Keith. That was true; he should trust him with this secret. Eyes glancing up at Haxus for a moment, Shiro closed the window between them. Haxus still made Shiro uneasy at times, even if he had joined him after the break up. He was sure Haxus already knew the details, or at least suspected, but that just made Shiro feel even _more_ uneasy. Hollywood’s hush could be so very loud.

After another brief moment of deliberating with himself, he decided against telling Keith for now. Maybe one day. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it today. So he continued with his story.

“One night, I messed up real bad and tried to hide, tried to run away. I drove away in a car, going as fast as I could, but it only resulted with me rolling in a ditch and waking up in a hospital with my right arm destroyed beyond repair. It was really bad, barely even an arm anymore.” His human hand moved up to the place where the metal met flesh. “Sendak and his agent, Zarkon, helped buy me a new arm and I ended up staying with him for another three months before I finally grew enough courage to break up with him in a very public setting. I knew it was the only way to go because he wouldn't _dare_ try anything with a bunch of people watching.”

He didn’t know why he was saying all of this now, why he _kept_ talking about what had happened between him and Sendak. But Shiro didn’t stop. He couldn’t now. Keith had opened the floodgates, and Shiro was going to run until he couldn’t. He hadn’t even looked over to Keith once since he began talking, eyes glossed over as he lost himself to his memories.

“I called my buddy Matt and he and Allura came and picked me up from the restaurant. I stayed at Matt’s place for two weeks, hiding away because I was too much of a coward to face the person who had hurt me. Allura says I was right to hide from the public eye for a while, but I just felt so awful afterwards because of how much Sendak had meant to me, even if he had been an abusive asshole. He was still the only person who took me in and showed me the cruel world of Hollywood, and especially the press.”

His voice had never strayed from the anger and hatred. But a new emotion had popped up somewhere in there. It was hard to place. Sadness? Perhaps. He had said he had cared for Sendak, even if he had been awful to him. Maybe the true emotion was just more anger, but more of the kind you cry over rather than snap at. After all, Sendak was one of the few people in the world who knew his secret.

And it was going to haunt Shiro for the rest of his life.

They sat quietly for some time after the words that rang heavy through the car. Against the backdrop of Ella Fitzgerald, it somehow felt more poignant. Keith favoured tracing absent patterns on the window, unsure how to articulate the mass of things collected in his mind. It was a lot to take in. And above anything else, Shiro had _trusted him_ enough to share this personal story.

Not a lot of people gave Keith the chance to be trusted. They often departed before that stage of companionship was even on the _horizon._ So losing this fragile trust that had been forged, tarnishing that mutual respect, was a pressing concern _pressing_ down on him. Lance had encouraged him to make friends, he figured part of that included actually _keeping them._ And in any friendship, conversations like this were landmarks. One wrong step and this could shatter.

“I…” Keith started, clearing his throat. “It started around when I was seventeen-”

“-Keith.”

“-But sometimes, even now I-”

A hand clasped his upper arm, as if conscious of something unspoken.

“- _Keith._ ” Spoken firmer, enough for Keith to stop. “This isn’t a trade. You don’t have to tell me something just because I chose to confide in you.”

Of all things, that had not been what he was expecting to hear. But _god_ it was appreciated. Unclenching the fist he didn’t realise he was holding, Keith smiled weakly over to Shiro. Just pulling his lips into such a shape took more effort than it should. He didn’t get it, the calm _patience_ and reassurance cast his way. After everything Shiro had divulged, he was already thinking about someone else. About _Keith._

With a slow heavy blink, Keith leant his head against the window. The sun bore down on Hollywood Boulevard as they drove by. Once again, in the back of this fancy limousine, Keith had been reduced to silence.

Despite the size, the space felt much smaller.

**~**

_Oh that shark babe, has pretty teeth, dear,  
_ _And he shows them, pearly white._

The radio played smoothly throughout the limousine. Above, hushed and calculating, a voice spoke.

“Sir, I have something interesting here.”

 _Just a jackknife has old Macheath, babe  
_ _And he keeps it way out of sight._

“We could make use of this situation, there are enough areas to exploit effectively in time.”

 _You know when that shark bites with his teeth, dear_ _  
_ _Scarlet billows start to spread..._

“Yes, that sounds like an agreeable arrangement. I suppose we should see how things unfold naturally. I’ll keep an eye on the boy in the meantime. He may prove useful.”

 _...And someone's sneakin' 'round the corner  
_ _Could that someone be Mack the Knife?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much to everyone for checking the story out, and hearing what you thought really was so awesome. now we're starting to move forwards towards some Big Events. the next few chapters have some of our favourite moments and we really hope you'll enjoy the ride! 
> 
> Steve is meant to be a reference to Steven Yeun's character in trollhunters by the way haha. it just was far too amusing to think about keith voiced by steven stunt doubling steve who is also voiced by steven. 
> 
> we've also got some extra content to share with you over this week before chapter 3 ;) . so do keep an eye on [ the blog ](https://itlabofficial.tumblr.com/) as that's where we'll be posting it all !!! 
> 
> big love,  
> sunny & sam


	3. relax, it's only the whole world watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this ain't a scene, it's a god damn talkshOW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you and love to our dear friend Flo (flowersandmurders) for beta reading this story!

The afternoon sun filtered softly down into the trailer, where Shiro and Keith sat. Conversation had lulled away gradually, the pair taking more enjoyment in each other’s company than anything else. This routine was good for them, whenever it was possible. Shiro, who always seemed to be talking or approached by _someone_ on set, could sit in easy undisturbed quiet. Keith, always moving and never static, could simply exist in one fixed spot.

So seeing how neither of them had much to do on set, making the most of a day like this counted. Shiro couldn't help think back to all the times they’d been here like this, growing closer. Though most notably the _first_  time came to mind  _-_ and it was this that began the laughing fit.

“Something funny?” Keith asked, eyebrow raised in the way Shiro had come to meant he was simultaneously curious and confused.

“I was just thinking about the fact that the first time you were in here, you jumped out my window like James Bond. And now you're just lounging on my couch like you've known me for years.”

Head ducked, not out of shyness but a guarded impulse, Keith laughed. It was something Shiro had come to notice with Keith in the time they’d started spending together. The stunt double often seemed to be tentative in showing some of his emotions, but he was so very animated and expressive once in a comfortable setting.

“If we're lucky, I’ll get to leave through the _door._ And you won't catch me complaining that part of being friends with you means I get to sit on very expensive and _very nice_ couches.”

Wriggling further into the couch, Keith’s lips upturned lazily enough to show relaxed contentment. He _was_ content, sat here with Shiro and sinking into the support offered by the saviour that was memory foam. That was evident, and it ticked Shiro’s chest.

“This is nicer than my _bed_ , I swear.”

The comment was offhanded in delivery, evasive despite being direct. But Shiro had seen the tension in Keith’s body when he thought nobody else was looking, had seen enough to hear it. He had seen how shoulders locked enough to rise a fraction, how he winced after a particularly strenuous stunt and made a hasty exit. Maybe it was because Keith didn’t _expect_ people to fix their attention on him with Shiro or other actors around. Yet he was surprisingly open in showing his discomfort. Pouting, Shiro watched Keith sprawl over the couch.

It wasn't a particularly expensive piece of furniture.

Keith’s gaze turned to him, the Inquisitive Eyebrow deployed. Shiro had clearly taken a beat too long to respond.

“Well,” he began as a disarming smile formed. The eyebrow lowered. “Hopefully Varkon doesn't come and get you. He's been known for randomly barging into trailers. Much like _someone_ I know.”

Keith sat up immediately, all in order to better shoot a pointed look at Shiro and the mutation of his smile which had become a smirk. _The audacity._

“It's been around  _six weeks,_ Shiro. I doubt he’ll come barging in to arrest me now.”

“You'd be surprised.”

“Actually, I’m more surprised that _this_ sells.” Keith held up the magazine on the table between them, the one both of them had endeavoured to ignore for the past hour. Across the front was a headline that held Shiro at the nexus. One of many. Hollywood definitely left little margin for privacy.

“Who even _reads_ this garbage, anyway?” Keith said. Whilst reading it.

“You’d be surprised.” Shiro repeated unsteadily, wetting his lips. “But I've never told anyone that stuff before.”

Keith set down the magazine in an instant, eyes wide and emanating concern.

“What do you mean? Sure you didn't just let it slip in passing or something? I mean it's just… you get _a lot_ of interviews.”

He didn't doubt Shiro, that was obvious enough. Shiro could see the gears turning, Keith attempting to fit the jigsaw together with whatever he had. All tinged with some variant of worry. Not pity, however. That was one of many things Shiro had come to like about Keith.

“I remember what I tell people.” Allura and past experiences had drilled that into him plenty.

“That’s - But _Shiro,_ how’s that possible?”

Keith wasn't particularly knowledgeable with the press and media, but he was highly observant. The fact someone had this information about Shiro, be it small trivial details concerning his lifestyle, was a clear breach of privacy.

“I'm not sure.”

The frown on Keith’s face, accompanied by drawn eyebrows, was too intense to handle right now. It was an expression forged from deep thinking, the kind that became all consuming. _Shiro_ had done enough of that to render most nights sleepless. Keith really didn't need to worry about any of this. With Allura already on the case, this would dissipate by itself soon.

The least Shiro could do is try to pull Keith’s focus to something else.

“Uh oh. I think I can see Varkon coming.”

“What?!” Keith leapt to his feet, startled and uncharacteristically flustered. Eyes darted from the door to the window, as if deciding his best route. “Ugh, not again!”

The window, then. Keith went swiftly, one leg hoisted outside. Only to falter at the sound of hysterical laughter.  _Shiro’s_ hysterical laughter. Practically wheezing, Shiro clasped the side of his chair for support.

“I got you _good_.”

“It's not that - that wasn't-!” Keith spluttered heatedly, merely causing the laughter to grow.

“It's not funny, _Takashi.”_

The room quickly went silent. Keith, with his leg still dangling out the window, half-considered making his retreat from this moment. It wouldn't be the first time. Like a deer caught in the headlights, he was jarringly still. An apology already threatened to burst from his lips, because he knew what this was and _this was a new landmark._

Shiro, on the other hand, considered that this was the first time Keith had called him this name. _His first name._ And it did something simultaneously terrifying and brilliant to his insides.

“You're right, it's not funny.”

Keith sucked in a sharp breath, warily bringing his leg back into the trailer. He was unsure where this was going, though relieved Shiro hadn’t seemed offended. His mind reeled with that information, because _maybe_ it meant Shiro really thought they were close enough for this.

“It’s _hilarious.”_

Catching sight of the bright smile and even brighter eyes, Keith glared. Though it was hard to act frustrated when Shiro looked so blissfully amused. Acting had never been Keith’s speciality, as demonstrated by the way poorly concealed laughter burst in his throat. This was a stunt he couldn't pull off.

“Stop laughing.” Keith managed.

“Alright, alright.” Shiro raised his hands placatingly. “I'm done. For now.”

Flopped back over the couch, Keith shrugged nonchalantly.

“Whatever you say. But no more caprisuns for you.”

A soft gasp, Shiro feigned offence.

“Now that's just plain rude, Keith.”

“ _You brought this on yourself_.”

What happened next was unprecedented by the both of them. Keith’s phone rang.

But it rang to the sound of Shiro singing. Because for some inexplicable reason, and to Keith’s _horror_ , the standard default beep had been changed to one of Shiro’s top hits from some musical he’d featured in.

Keith seldom wished on stars or prayed to Gods he didn't believe in. But right now he wished that some higher being would release him from this _chaos._

 _“_ I uh - I don't - that's _not-”_ It was. “I didn't do this I have no idea how-”

The epiphany came when Keith realised he recognised this song. He’d heard it before somewhere.

In his kitchen. In his house. _With-_

“-LANCE.” Keith snapped down the phone as he answered. “Don't think this is over I'm onto you and your - your _devious pranks_ so-”

A light flush spread over the tips of his ears.

“-Oh. Hey, Rolo.”

Shiro almost died. He pressed his fist into his mouth to stifle the laughter. Fortunately, Keith seemed too mortified and focused on the phone to be paying him any attention.

“I'm listening yeah. Okay. Wait- are you serious? Rolo. I… don't know about this. That's pretty big.” Pause. “This _weekend?_ As in the one in three days time - _that weekend?_ Woah. No, uh. It's - I am, but it’s-... I'm just surprised. Yeah. I know, _I know._ Okay. Bye.”

“What's going on this weekend?” Shiro asked coolly as the phone hung up. As an actor, Shiro was well attuned to inflection in speech. For most of that, he’d caught something rare for Keith: hesitance, uncertainty. He could bring up the ringtone at a better time, now wasn’t it.

“Rolo, he uh got me on Coran's late show for an interview. Apparently me being friends with you has made people take interest in me. Or something.”  

It could also have something to do with the viral photograph of _Keith flipping off a photographer_. But there was no denying that the more time Keith had spent around Shiro, the further into the bubble of Hollywood he had fallen. Lance had pulled up more than a few handfuls of ridiculous articles about him over the past few weeks. Sometimes the comments added were stranger than the content itself.

“That’s awesome, Keith! Little ticked that it’s because of me, but maybe this will let people see that you’re a really cool person, and maybe let stunt doubles help get noticed more. You guys are the ones doing all the hard work after all.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” Keith admitted, perching on the edge of the table. “No offence but - I’m not here to be in the spotlight. I’ve never even done an interview before.”

And this one was going to be live. On television. With thousands, maybe even millions, watching. In two days time. Despite his own dilemmas, Shiro felt stressed _for_ Keith.

“I could help you, if you’d like?”

Shaking his head, Keith folded his arms. A defensive position, as if accepting help would be too much of an ask. That was something Shiro had come to notice, especially since that day in the limousine; Keith was fiercely independent. But to the extent where he would attempt to do everything on his terms. Perhaps out of fear or something Shiro couldn't name loitering in the corners of his eyes. However, he _knew_ he couldn't push Keith. There was too much at stake. Besides Allura, Shiro struggled to remember ever having someone this genuine and _sincere_ in his life. 

“Thanks for the offer, Shiro. But I’ll be fine.” Keith said, just as predicted. “It’s just talking, right?”

Shiro was prepared to interject, remembering his own first talk show. It had been far from _smooth._ But then, as if tempting fate, Keith said Those Words.

“How hard can it be?”

**~**

Sat on a couch with a live television audience primed and ready to react to his every response, Keith discovered very quickly on Saturday night that this was in fact quite hard. Not only did it entail small talk that was put on public display - _scrutiny -_ it required a lot of things Keith was certain he didn’t have. Watching esteemed model Nyma Sparks win the crowd over in a heartbeat earlier in the night from the wings had been enough of a realisation.

Keith was an equation that Hollywood would never solve.

He was not inherently charismatic.

For most people, that may not ever pose too much of a problem. Flit through the stream of people, get to where you need to be and carve your own path - all that was possible. But in Hollywood there was very little room or _acceptance_ for abrasion of the misinterpreted kind. Even the kind that is honest to a fault and swathed in sharpness. To be evermore blunt: there was very little room for Keith and everything that made him _Keith._

Unlike popular actors, Keith had little capacity fiction. Being able to indulge it so casually baffled him. Not to mention there were enough things to focus on in fiction. Unlike models, his smile didn’t gleam or dazzle. It was an unrefined thing, unpolished. Raw.

Rolo may have wanted to paint him as a diamond in the rough, but one thing Keith had was self-awareness. He would never shine like a diamond or capture attention that way. Nor did he want to. Keith was no gemstone; Keith was just a rock. And whilst that might not be the most favourable thing in comparison, he didn’t mind. Rocks were durable. Rocks were there to exist and serve their purpose.

Keith liked rocks. He once had started a small collection.

“-I’m kind of more like... a rock, actually.”

And that was great. _Great,_ now he was comparing himself to a rock because he was _thinking_ about rocks. His eyes caught the camera swooping round, a reminder. Keith was on live television. Coran, the whimsical man with a bushy moustache that danced when he spoke, looked a little bemused at the response whilst the audience ruptured into uncertain laughter.

“Well that’s a little unexpected. Are you going to elaborate on that, Keith?”  Leaning over the desk, Coran gestured to the audience. As if his hand was the sun itself, they were drawn in. Warmer. Softer. Keith looked down at his own hands. Rough and calloused. Cold. Clenched together. He didn’t even _like_ the cold.

“There’s not much else to say.”

“Right. That’s fine. _Moving on, then_!” Coran chirped, ensuing a few more rounds of generic laughter.

“I’m led to believe that _The Black Paladin_ is your first big blockbuster movie. Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s it like working in Hollywood, then?” Coran asked.

“Uh, it’s like... _Hollywood?_ ” Keith ventured, throwing his hands up in an apologetic gesture. How this was remotely entertaining for _anybody_ to watch, he really didn’t know. Perhaps everybody was wanting this to end just as quickly as he did. Unfazed, Coran slammed a fist on the table.

“You heard it here first everybody! Hollywood is like Hollywood!”

“It’s just… you know the _lights_ and the _buzz_ and it-”

“-What does that mean? The lights and buzz of _what_?”

Laughter.

“Of the... of the _lights and buzz._ ”

More laughter. Keith wasn’t sure if he should join in or not. It was unclear what was really so funny about intangible communication. Instead, he waved a hand lightly to the audience. It seemed like this discussion was going to be more like riding unpredictable waves of serious topics and supposed universal comedy.

“You know what everybody -  _I like this boy_ , he’s a very succinct yet mysterious chap.” A few rounds of tentative applause sounded before Coran chose his next topic. “So, most of the people watching tonight will recognise you because of your budding presence alongside Takashi Shirogane.”

The crowd suddenly changed, screaming animatedly at just the _name._ A few whistles and suggestive sounds came across too. Keith stiffened a fraction. _Oh no._ He’d seen a few movies like this, been _in_ a few movies like this - but never had he been the person in the centre of the storm. This was a cliché and it was going to unfold before Keith had a chance to stop it. Coran was going to follow up the audience, and bring It up. Because one fixation people seemed to have was nosing into people’s private lives, _especially Shiro’s._ That included, Keith presumed, the-

“-I haven’t even been in his bedroom.”

The crowd hollered. _Shit._ Keith had jumped the gun without even thinking this through.

“Now hold on just a minute, Keith! I haven’t-”

Once he had started spewing words, Keith found he couldn’t stop. Because if he stopped, Coran might ask another question and then Keith would have to _answer_ and then this may go even worse than it already was and that could not be allowed to happened. Of all things, he was not sure _how_ to talk about Shiro. Or This. 

“-I mean, it’s - yeah. I’ve been to his place but it wasn’t like that. And I don’t think he’s interested in me _like that,_ anyway. We’re friends. But that doesn’t mean he’s not _attractive,_ have you seen Takashi Shirogane?”

Backtrack. _Abort._

“I have indeed. Yes…?” Coran choked, out of what appeared to be a strong effort to hold things together _._ Keith wasn’t really listening. Pulse racing, hands clammy, stuck on _autopilot_ of the absolute worst kind.

“Well then you know.”

“Know what, Keith? What are we supposed to know?”

“You just know.”

Pause. The studio was curiously quiet, confusion mostly spread across the audience.

“It’s more than that, though. Shiro is more than a handsome face to swoon over or whatever. He’s a really... great person. But that - great isn’t the best word.”

Great felt like a slight somehow. Great wasn’t _enough,_ but _how_ Keith could put it into words, he didn’t know. Any other adjective felt hyperbolic and too big to handle. His tongue was tripping over words at a rate he could barely keep up with and process. Keith was finally starting to become surprisingly content with the routine of his life, the _people_ surrounding him. A new gravity had lured him in, propelling him deeper into Shiro’s world. Even if Keith wanted to - and he didn’t - there was no turning back now.

“Shiro is quite a charming, wonderful chap. Who is also single. _Apparently.”_ Coran said, adding the final sentence for the sake of appeasing the crowd who immediately shrieked at the implications. Keith wasn’t sure for himself or _themselves._ It didn’t matter, he presumed.  

“Apparently.” Keith said, because he didn’t know the answer. Whilst he’d never seen Shiro _with_ anybody, the Press or Shiro hadn’t talked about anything like that either, it wasn’t his place to say. Nor was it his _best subject_.

“As are you, _apparently._ ” Coran ventured.

“You could say that, I guess.”

“Is it... likely to stay that way?”

Keith wasn’t sure why there was so much _interest_ in this topic. He couldn’t speak for Shiro and his life, just because they were friends. Live television hardly felt the _place_ to do that, especially in light of the recent _stories._ Yet of course, people wanted to know just about anything and _everything_ they could about the famous actor. Folding his arms a little defensively, Keith met Coran’s eyes firmly. 

“That’s up to Shiro.”

For reasons Keith couldn’t grasp, that seemed to stir up the crowd _even more_.

Apparently.

**~**

Commercial break couldn’t have come soon enough. Once the house lights came up, Keith practically bolted from the stage. Moving backstage through technicians and stage managers bounding around, he paused at the sound of familiar voices.

“Alright. I had to stop the livestream. For Science-”

That was definitely Hunk’s voice. Peering round the corner quietly, Keith spotted the source. Lance stood beside Pidge, his phone on speaker.

“-Science is lucky to have you-”

“-Thank you, random stranger standing next to Lance who I do not know but I’m still talking to.”

“Pidge.”

“Pidge.” Hunk replied with an absent wave on the screen before turning his attention back to Lance. “Tell me, please. Lance. This is serious. Tell me he didn’t do the thing.”

“He did the thing.” Lance confirmed sullenly.

“What thing?” Asked Pidge out loud, Keith asked in his own mind curiously.

“ _The thing!”_ Lance exclaimed. “Okay. Sometimes our buddy Keith does this thing where he just starts talking or  _rambling_ and he doesn’t stop and what usually comes out is just unfiltered _weird cryptic_ thoughts that never really get explained! It’s a mess.”  

“So that’s what that was.”

 _Oh,_ that’s what it was called: _The Thing._ Rolo laughed from the corner, drawing all of their attention. That included Keith, who absolutely _wasn’t eavesdropping_ and hiding as opposed to just joining the conversation.

“Whatever it was, that kid is entertaining. I should’ve fixed him up with more interviews sooner.”

“I don't think any of this is funny, Rolo.” Hunk said boldly, startling Keith. His agent and Hunk had never really seen eye to eye on the occasions they met (which fortunately wasn’t often). “If he’s doing _the thing_ in the first place then he’s probably not comfortable out there. Did you even ask him if this was okay or did you just assume he could do this and go ahead with booking it?”

“I _can_ do this.” Keith said immediately without hesitation, stepping out from his hiding place. Whilst he _appreciated_ his friends looking out for him, he didn’t appreciate the coddling. If it meant exposing himself as a sneaky eavesdropper here, then so be it.

“I made my choice, this was my decision alone. Rolo didn’t _make me_ do anything, I'm not some _kid_ .” Eyes swept across the group, settling on Lance who was listening intently. “Besides, it’s not going _that_ terribly.”

Silence.

Silence that spoke volumes.

Oh dear.

“I predict you’ll be a meme by the morning.” Lance offered, refusing to directly address Keith’s statement. But it was clear enough what that meant.

“That bad?” Keith sighed.

“It depends what you consider to be bad.” Pidge chipped in. “I’m sure quite a lot of people wonder in their lifetime what it feels like to be a meme but will never get to find out.”

“...Thanks.”

“Commercial break’s almost over, kid. So get yourself ready.” Rolo said, patting Keith lightly on the shoulder. Keith was certain he said _kid_ to deliberately ruffle his composure. He did his best to ignore the lingering sting on his shoulder from the touch.

“Come here, Mullet!” Lance bounced towards him instead, tossing his phone to Pidge who held up Hunk’s face in their direction. A hand dove avidly into his hair, presumably fixing it up for the screen. Keith stood there quietly, eyebrow raised with a question he didn’t ask. Lance’s hands moved down his jacket to gently smooth over creases that were _supposed_ to be there.

“Uh, are we done here? I have to-”

“-No, Keith! We’re not! Geez, I can’t believe you wore the jacket. You’ve had this thing since as long as I’ve known you.”

“I feel comfortable.”

Keith did. This jacket was something he’d had in his possession for a long time, something familiar. The words had Lance look up at him slowly. _Knowingly._ Preening gave way to a soft understated touch. Sometimes, Lance’s actions had surprising subtlety. That didn’t make it any less prevalent, the _reassurance._ Keith couldn’t hold his gaze, arms folding. A swift second later, Lance was back in full swing. An arm draped over his shoulder lazily, Lance bumping their hips playfully.

“Okay, Keith! This is the half-time _checkpoint._ This is the part where you get geared up and ready to focus on the game. Now we’re into the second half, so go out there and show them what you’re made of!”

“Yes. Keith. Lance is right. Get your head in the game.” Hunk shouted over the phone.

“You gotta _getcha getcha getcha getcha head in the game_ !” Lance didn’t miss a beat, including a full shimmy and twirl. Honestly, Keith thought Lance should be the one out there. A true natural, _charismatic_ figure. He bit down on his lip, laughter bubbling inside.

“No. I’m not joining in.” Pidge clarified when attention turned to her.

“Keith.” Hunk said firmly with vigour, leaning into the screen. Despite not being here in person, his presence was just as engaging. “Will you do it? Will you get your head in the game?”

It was time.

Keith knew what he had to do. With a nod, he delivered his next words in a deadpan.

“ _You can bet on it.”_

Keith walked back on stage with a private smile. Because he walked on to applause but also the hysterical laughter of Lance and Hunk, followed by Pidge’s loud exclamation. If she knew the number of times Hunk and Lance had watched High School Musical during their time at college then it would not be all that shocking. Picking up the words was _only natural._ Especially after being part of those nights quite frequently. As Keith took a seat, he glanced over to the wings. Lance was stood there, deliberately in sight but out of camera shot. Keith expected a thumbs up; instead he got a cheesy peace sign delivered with crinkled eyes and a wide vibrant smile.

Something about that, the unconditional support, had the tension untangling.

Yeah. Maybe he _could_ do this.

**~**

“Tell us a bit about your roots, Keith. Where were you born and raised? Where do these curious creatures known as _stunt doubles_ bloom from?”  

The question was _bound to come,_ eventually. Keith was just surprised it took this long, _in general_ . Throughout their time together, Shiro had never pried. He’d been patient, considerate. Whilst Shiro had never brought the subject up, this setting was different. Coran’s job was to start discussion about him, to engage the audience with relatable checkpoints. But Keith always had a quickfire, automatic response tucked away for this topic. One that had become ingrained into his system; unshakable and foolproof every time. Mostly due to the fact that for some reason, an assumed prerequisite of being _Keith Kogane_ meant a sense of humour was impossible. It was often interesting to watch the startled expressions carousel over faces. For the most part, people were unsure if he was being _serious_ or not.

Keith would let them figure that out themselves.

 _For the most part,_ they never could.

“Well.” A shrug. “It depends where you want to start from. Pre-Bigfoot years or post-Bigfoot. I mean, the wolves it - they took me in as their own when I was just an infant for a few winters. That’s where it all really began.”

Coran took the hint. Professionally, and smoothly, he went with it. Pulling a puzzled expression, the audience burst into life around his reaction.

“So in true _Tarzan_ fashion you - wait, is it Tarzan? Or was it Mowgli with the wolves? Quiznak, these movies are so easy to mix up.”

“I don’t know, not really one to watch Disney movies.” Keith didn’t have to look to the wings to _feel_ Lance scoff. _By choice,_ he should have added. He had definitely seen his fair share during his time living with Lance.

“I think _Tarzan_ is the guy with the apes, Coran.”

Twisting his moustache, Coran nodded at Keith thoughtfully.

“That makes _Tarzan_ the most Keith character in this scenario.”

“Sorry, but I’d have to disagree.”

“Why's that? Is Bigfoot _not_ an ape?”

“No.” Keith said quicker than intended, because he also happened to know a great deal about this subject out of interest for things of the cryptid kind. Probably best to keep that under wraps for now given everything he had spilled. Still. There was time to turn this around with the Kogane Humour. 

“Bigfoot - Bigfoot is my _father._ Show him some respect. _”_

And that was the moment people started laughing _with Keith_ as opposed to at him. Coran included. Following that, dialogue bounced far easier between them. Having found a niche corner of conversation, _Keith got his head in the game._ He didn’t _exactly_ turn it all around, that was an impossible feat given the first half, but he was certain this was becoming a pretty good save. Finally, they came to a topic Keith could completely delve into, no matter the situation.

“What’s the most dangerous stunt you’ve ever done?”

Leaning forwards in the seat, growing more comfortable with Coran, he recalled some of his work. The majority of things he’d done before working on this particular movie had been on a stricter budget. Stunts were smaller, but that didn’t mean they _couldn’t_ break boundaries.

“There’s always a risk with every stunt. But the choreographer works with you to make it as smooth as possible. Thace he - he was kind of my mentor for a long time.”

“And for those who may not know Thace he has, well Thace Dewun is a legend and has done some truly _phenomenal films._ ”

“Yeah.” Keith agreed immediately. “It’s an honour to work with him every time I get the chance. He actually choreographed the work in _The Blades Of Marmora._ ”

“I think we’ve got a clip of that here somewhere…”

The screen lit up, playing back a fight scene from the independent movie. Keith, wearing a purple skintight suit and posing as the main character flicked across the screen in a mix of parkour and martial arts movements. Never one to watch back his own work, Keith was unsure _where_ exactly to look. Arms folded, he waited for the clip to end. As the screen faded to black, there was a large applause. Keith let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

“Fantastic, Keith! So now you’re working on the _The Black Paladin._ What are the stunts like in that?”

“... _Big.”_ Laughter, that Keith didn’t really think _needed_ to be there, interrupted him. “No, really. They are big. I’m not supposed to tell you anything about _The_ _Black Paladin_ but, I _can_ tell you there’s some pretty intense stuff in that.”

“And big.” Coran added quickly, to the audience’s amusement.

“ _And big.”_ Keith confirmed, a small smile on his lips.

“Keith. It's been quite an experience talking with you. Now we have some time left - do you think you could do something for us, today? Or am I going to get in trouble for asking you to do that.”

Keith was already assessing the studio stage once it became clear what was going on. He leapt onto Coran’s table, cutting off his musings and unprompted liaisons with the producers. With ease, Keith propelled himself up to the lighting rig and swung across. Falling into a dive roll as he fell, he landed on the couch. The manoeuvre was fast but packed with skill. A few blinks and it would be completely missed. Raising an eyebrow, Keith crossed his legs.

“Satisfied?”

The crowd broke into a mighty roar of applause, a few even standing on their feet. Coran beamed heartily at him, finger prodding his ear as if to better hear the words coming through his earpiece. Eyebrows furrowed as his hands clasped together.

“Ah, well. Yes. That’s about time now although I - I think I am going to get in trouble for letting you do that and violate every health and safety regulation in place for our guests...” The audience cheered. “But _nevermind_! We have no regrets on this show! Thank you everyone for tuning in and we’ll see you next week!”

**~**

“-Coran asked you do it-”

“-I know. I was there, Lance.”

“And then you actually _did it-!”_

“-Yeah, _I know._ ” Keith said, head leaning against the window as Lance drove them down the highway home. Lance’s enthusiasm had his lips curving upwards a fraction.

“-Keith you don’t understand. Really, it was _so cool-”_

“-It was just a simple move.”

“ _It was just a simple move.”_ Lance repeated, pulling a disgruntled face. “Oh come on, mullet. Don’t be like that. That was perfect and  _flawless_ and you know it!” A finger pointed in his direction, daring Keith to disagree. “ _Don’t_ even think about lying.”

Rolling his eyes fondly, Keith pressed his head further against the window. The cool glass was exactly what he needed against the hot pressure building. It had been a long day. He could feel the exhaustion taking hold, slumping over him.

“But I think my favourite part was when you went and called yourself a _rock_ on live national television _,_ I mean!! No stunt could top that!  _What the cheese!_ Keith - what were you even thinking about?”

“...Rocks.”

Lance laughed.

 _“_ Yeah _, apparently.”_

Keith wondered if he had the power to _banish_ that word from existence and get it cancelled from the dictionary.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked reluctantly, because he could see Lance wanted him to ask. The way he’d said that word was _suspicious._

“Geez. You really _don’t_ _know_ , do you?” Groaning, Lance dragged a hand down his face, other hand gently steering the car forwards.

No. _Apparently,_ Keith did not know.

“ _Keith._ They way you spoke about Shiro was… it kind of sounded like you might _maybe_ be into him.”

Oh. _Oh._

“I said he was attractive, what’s wrong with that? You’ve said as much before.”

Ignoring the comment, Lance slowed the car a fraction. They _both_ knew that wasn’t all Keith had said.

“... _Are you_ into him?”

“Lance. Please, _can we not_ .” He hadn’t even _considered_ the consequences of his words, how they could be interpreted. Now his mind was reeling with the possibilities. Paired with the intense waves of discomfort crashing against his bones, it was too much. Eyes wide, caught off guard by the question, perhaps more than _Coran’s_ questions, Keith averted his gaze to the road.

“I’m… kind of tired.”

He knew Lance would understand. _Tired_ had become their code, the word Keith could turn to when there were too many others there he _couldn’t say._ Saying them would make them have substance, make it real. Casting Keith a fleeting look, Lance frowned.

“We don’t have to talk about Shiro right now. Or ever. That’s fine. You’ve got a good thing going together with this whole friendship, it’s nice. So whatever happens-”

“- _Nothing_ is going to happen.” Keith spat out, teeth gritted and irritation bursting forcefully over his face.

“Alright, _okay_. I’m officially terminating this conversation so listen up good, Keith. You are way more than just 'tired'. For the next twenty-four hours you’re not doing anything. We’re gonna get home, sit in our pyjamas and watch a bunch of random stuff for the rest of the weekend. And before that, you’re gonna take those damn painkillers and rest.”

The second they got home, Keith did just that. The painkillers, as expected, were relatively futile but at least took some edge off the building pressure. Once they were settled down in the living room, Lance insisted Keith made a twitter, going as far as becoming his personal assistant in the whole ordeal. Keith’s phone in hand, Lance had whizzed through the set-up with ease, almost too quickly for Keith to follow. It was a welcomed distraction from thinking _back_ to the day and the overexertion he felt.

‘Thestuntguy’ gained seventy-thousand followers overnight.

 **#Keiththestuntdouble** also trended worldwide.

Keith also, as Lance predicted, became a meme. One particular close-up of his expression after proclaiming he was a rock had for some reason resonated with the general public. For just a second, Keith had accidentally flicked his eyes to the main camera. Despite being told not to, he hadn’t been able to _help_ look directly into it _._ A lot of people found something relatable with the clear existential distress in his eyes despite trying to push a smile.

Even though the stunt had happened, and was circulating around social media _,_ there was plenty of focus on his blunders.

Particularly the _Shiro_ speech.

Now _Keith the stunt double,_ slumped against the edge of the couch, contemplated how viable it would be to go into hibernation for the next _ten thousand years._ He could track down bigfoot for real, disappear into the wilderness. He’d been camping a few times. He’d slept rough, too. He was more than capable of surviving in the heart of a dense forest and living out the rest of his life there. Or some shack in the desert. Either were options Keith entertained.  

Because facing the outside world again, facing _Shiro,_  after that disaster was something he really did not want to do.

**~**

For the entire weekend, Shiro’s mind had fixated on the interview, on the things Keith had _said_ in the interview. As he followed Allura past the press, barely held at bay by bollards outside, it crept its back to the forefront. _More than a handsome face to swoon over._ He’d watched it again this morning, the words trailing after him ever since. While he had felt bad for Keith, _his friend,_ he had also found it comical out of growing fondness. And the mini stunt that Keith had done had really impressed him. _A lot of others felt the same, too._

Allura abruptly brought him back to the present, pulling open the door to their favourite restaurant - _Vrepit Sals._ Walking to their scheduled table, tucked away into a private area through another set of doors, the world was finally shut out. But not Keith, not the interview. Although, judging by the tension oozing off Allura, there were bigger things to discuss. As she sat down, Shiro followed her lead on the other side. Then Allura brought out a magazine, placing it between them. Her expression was one of anger mixed with concern.

**Big Star Takashi Shirogane May Actually Be World’s Biggest Liar?**

A chill struck Shiro to the bones.

His hands immediately grabbed the magazine and flipped through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. The double spread feature. Skimming through, he found that this was about the one time he had lost his cool on set. A story he had hoped would never surface.

_Shirogane was found on what he claimed to be one of his favourite movies to work on 'Escape From Beta Traz', positively fuming. When asked about it by our reporters, he had no comment._

_Today we have uncovered the truth._

_Shiro has said many times that he hates actors who go off on other crew members. Its looks like we have a hypocrite here, as Shiro himself has gone off on one special effect crew member by the name of Slav._

_We can't give away our sources, but we've been told that he and Slav got into a heated argument and Shiro lost his cool several times while working on set for the movie._

“Who even-?” Shiro cut himself off by finding the source of the article. “Of course it’s Galra Press. Why am I not surprised?!”

“I’m worried for you, Shiro.” Leaning across the table, Allura’s fingers traced over his prosthetic hand. “I _can’t_ see another person I care about destroyed by the Galra.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” It was an offhanded comment, one not really meant to be said out loud, though Shiro made no reaction when he realised what he had said.

Allura’s eyes widened though, hand pressing down firmer as if to assert her presence and _this moment_.

“ _Shiro.”_

It was clear that she had more she wanted to say but Shiro cut her off by shaking his head. His flesh hand pinched at the bridge of his nose, just above the scar that was forever planted there. Shiro exhaled a sigh. Allura pulled back, studying the headline.

“Just… _how_ did they find this out? It was _years_ ago.” The hand came down and pointed at the paper that was laid out between them.

“I don't know, Shiro.” Allura’s face was incredibly open: she really didn't know how these articles kept coming out with stories. It didn't sit well with Shiro.

“I'm not a fan of this, especially since this is the second time this week that something has come out about me.” Although the articles were relatively tame, they did reveal unflattering information about him. Heavily  _distorted,_  but still relatively tame _._ For now - _for now._

“This isn't good for _The_   _Black Paladin_ or you, Shiro. We need to stay vigilant and keep an eye out on- Oh. Hello, Keith.” Allura’s eyes finally strayed from her client and dear friend. Immediately her expression hardened into something less personal, more executive.

Shiro turned slightly and gave a smile, though it was obvious that he was exhausted. Most days felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and today was a day that showed it.

“Please, take a seat. I want to talk to you and Shiro about something.”

Keith sat, eyebrow raised to Shiro, who only shrugged. With Allura, anything could be fair game. Difficult to predict and even more difficult to keep up with. Keith had to have learnt that by now.

“First of all, I believe congratulations are in order. Your interview was positively terrible. I haven't seen a blunder like that in years.”

That earned a pointed look from Shiro. She had told him that maybe he shouldn't be spending all his time with a stunt double they knew little about, but he had brushed her off. He _liked_ spending time with Keith. But he didn't like her seemingly making fun of him. Keith, however, hadn't seemed to notice the underlying tone in Allura’s voice.

“Thank you..?”

_Or maybe he had._

“Coran is an old friend of mine,” She explained, something wistful passing through glassy eyes. “He told me that interview received one of the highest ratings he's had for quite some time.”

This made Shiro perk up. Stunt doubles deserved more credit for their work, so hearing a lot of people had watched it made him smile proudly.

“That's good for him.” Keith said succinctly, offering no more than necessary.

“Not just him,” Allura continued. “This is good for you, for Shiro, for all of us. The public seem to like you, Keith. They find you endearing, as sometimes do I.”

“Nobody even knew who I was until they saw me with Shiro. That's the only reason I got the gig. Are you _sure_ it’s me?” Keith was, evidently, unconvinced. Shiro glanced over at him, watching the way his facial expression changed with his tone. Keith’s nose scrunched a fraction and _oh no,_ that was bordering adorable.

“You trended internationally last night,” Allura replied, not taking in what Keith was saying. Shiro wanted to interject, though he wondered where she was going with this. After knowing her for nearly eight years, he could tell when those gears were turning.

“The interview has surpassed fifteen million views on YouTube in just twelve hours. Your agent has probably been swamped with phone calls by now.”

“If you’re trying to tell me something, just say it. I don’t appreciate being walked around in circles.” Shiro couldn’t help but smirk, giving Allura a look that said _y_ _ou’ve just met your match._

Allura only gave a small huff, along with a nod. She seemed amused, or rather _endeared_ by Keith’s tenacity. Shiro got that. Keith was someone who stuck to his gut and never wavered. The sheer conviction in every action and _who he was_ truly was admirable. And refreshing. No nonsense. Shiro had grown invariably fond of it. He’d grown invariably fond of a lot of things about Keith, though that was not a thought he dared entertain right now.

“As you may be aware, there are some questionable stories circulating about Shiro.”

Keith turned his attention to Shiro, who stared down at the magazine. If he looked up, Keith might just see everything he feared would show. There were truths embedded in the slander, things Shiro wasn't exactly proud of.

“Yeah.” Shiro exhaled lightly as Keith spoke, feeling the burning intensity of his gaze pull away. “So I've heard.”

“The source is still undetermined, but it’s undeniable that this could be the work of a spy. I’m doing my best to locate the leak. But what Shiro needs right now is a new story; one that will capture the hearts of the world.”

“Makes sense.” Keith responded tactfully, though with a fraction of impatience. Clearly, he was waiting for the punchline.

“Where are you going with this, Allura?” Shiro finally spoke. If the talks were going to include him, he wanted to know what was going on. He was still there, still a person. He wasn’t going to let Allura take that away from him, too. Even if she was acting in the best of intentions for him. Shiro _knew_ what the Galra had done to Alfor’s reputable name, a story tucked far into the cracks of Allura’s heart. He knew from the cracks in his own that when it came to the Galra he wasn't _the only one_ to lose hold of perception and rational thought.

Having Keith here was probably a good call right now.

For _both of them._

“I have a solution that may fix these problems, or at least make it seem like not everything about you is bad news.” Neither of them spoke. Keith folded his arms expectantly, leaning back in his seat. “You two should date.”

Shiro’s eyes became saucers for a split second. It took a moment to regain his composure, though on the inside he was panicking. Had Allura picked up on his little blossoming crush on Keith? Was she using this as bait to get him to confess his feelings? No. She wouldn't. Allura wasn’t like that, she was his is agent and _friend_ . Shame crept up Shiro’s spine and clamped around his head tightly. It was hard _not_ to jump to such thoughts automatically. _Not everyone wants to hurts you. Not everyone is going to hurt you._

One thing continued to resonate, however: _what was the big idea?_ Seeming to understand from the silence that further explanation was necessary, Allura folded up the magazine on the table and pushed them into her bag. Shiro was glad Keith hadn't seemed remotely interested in looking at the content.

“It will be a good distraction away from all this negative press. It's what Shiro needs, what _The Black Paladin_ needs. It would also give you some exposure Keith, especially since the public seem infatuated with you. They _also_ are beginning to speculate as much already due to how often you're seen together, and thanks to what you said on Coran’s show."

Shiro was, still, unmoving. His brain processing how this could turn out. Keith would probably say no and he would have to apologise on behalf of himself and Allura and they'd probably stop talking and-

“What do you think, Shiro?”

_Oh._

He looked over at Keith, who was looking at him with a painfully neutral expression that gave away absolutely nothing. Even after slipping naturally in each other's worlds, Keith was still so mysterious, elusive. Both of which just intrigued him even more. He turned his attention to Allura.

“What exactly did you have in mind? Like, are we going to be a real couple and-?”

“Oh, no. That... would be too bold a suggestion. Forgive me, I should have made myself more clear. You're going to be fake dating.”

“Come again?” They said together.

“You know! You'll act like a couple in public until this blows over, but you won't actually be a thing. Plenty of people in Hollywood do it. Do you really think Nyma Sparks goes through that many guys that quickly?”

“Well, I- I just thought..” Shiro was at a loss for words. He didn't know what this would entail but it might be a fun new adventure. And if Keith was up for it, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He looked back to his friend.

“It's really up to you, in the end. If you're comfortable with it, then why not, you know? It could be fun.”

“Well, Keith? Will you do this?” Allura asked. Shiro had no idea what Keith would say, _if he would even agree_. He just hoped that after this, no matter what happened, they could still be friends.

“For Shiro.” Allura added, fixing Keith with a look that spoke volumes. And it became clear then: Allura saw. She could see it - that Keith was the type of person to go _all in_ for his friends and those he cared for. No matter what. Her words were chosen well, with enviable diplomacy capable of swaying anybody. Not that Keith needed further persuasion. Keith _wanted_ to help Shiro get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

“Let's give them something to talk about.” Keith said, lips twitching. “But I hope you have some sort of plan, Allura.”

“Well yes,” Allura suddenly became sheepish. _Suspiciously so._ “As a matter of fact, I’ve already spoken to Rolo and he thought it would be excellent exposure for you.”

Of course Rolo did.

“What does _that_ have to do with anything?” Keith asked, a little petulantly.

“Through our combined efforts, we’ve secured you a photoshoot with AMA next week. It will be your debut as a couple.”

“AMA?” Shiro asked, eyes wide. That was a big deal.

“Yes!” Hands clasped together, she beamed over at the pair of them. “They’ve been wanting to shoot with you for months, Shiro. What better time than now?”

Keith - unsure what exactly AMA was - could think of a lot of times better than now. Because _now_ presumably included him. Before he could ask, Allura slung her bag over her shoulder and stood.

“I’ve got to go now, but I’ll be seeing you both soon.”

The brisk click of her heels matched Keith’s rising pulse.

“So… Bigfoot.” Shiro said, not missing a beat. Keith desperately wanted nothing more than for Allura to walk back through the door and end this conversation.

“So. _Fake dating.”_ He countered quickly. That brought things to an abrupt halt. Maybe _bigfoot_ would have been better to go with. Clearing his throat, Keith pursed his lips. They might as well get this _embarrassing_ recap of the interview over with fast.

“I uh… I meant what I said to Coran, you know. You are great. I’m glad to know you. And, I hope that this _thing_ we do helps with the stories.”

Fake dating. 

“Me too. Though it’s not like we’ll need to act that differently. Maybe hold hands a few times and you’ll probably have to laugh more at my jokes.”

“Sorry, Shiro but that’s a dealbreaker.” Keith deadpanned. “Your jokes are horrible.”

Shiro snorted, fingers drumming on the table. It was probably a good idea to set some boundaries together.

“Pet names?” He ventured.

“Not really my thing. I’d rather just call you _Shiro._ Go ahead but just-... keep it subtle.”

“Cheek kisses?”

“I won't complain.”

“How we got together?”

Keith hummed thoughtfully.

“We’d been keeping it quiet for a few weeks until my interview blew our cover.”

“Who asked out who?”

“Easy. You asked me.”

“ _Did I_?” Shiro grinned. "How?”

Keith grinned straight back.

“You tell me.”

 _Oh boy_ \- Shiro was in trouble. His heart hiccuped clumsily in his chest.

“Food?” Keith looked confused at that question. “I like this place, and I think it's on Allura anyway.”

“Wow - our first public date and you won't even fork out. Unbelievable.”

Shiro laughed, finding easy comfort in Keith’s presence. He had always appreciated how easy it was to be comfortable around Keith. And now was no different. As they ordered, he watched Keith carefully. Little did Keith know, he had been wrong in the interview: Shiro _did_ like him in that way.

**~**

Upon hearing the news of the upcoming couple photoshoot, Lance played _Born This Way_ on repeat for seven hours in their house.

No amount of Keith throwing pillows in his direction stopped the exaggerated performance and _Walk Walk Fashion Baby._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..... What a mess, Keith. Steven Yeun interviews were a lot of fun to watch and honestly, very much reminded us of Keith in an interview setting. You can follow [ Keith ](https://twitter.com/thestuntguy?lang=en-gb) and [ Shiro ](https://twitter.com/ShiroTakash1?lang=en-gb) on twitter!
> 
> WE REALLY HOPE YOU'RE AS EXCITED AS WE FEEL NOW THINGS WILL START / HAPPENING / . So much to come!! 
> 
> And if you were wondering, though you probably guessed, the face that is now a Meme for Keith in the interview is definitely based on [ this screenshot ](http://imgur.com/a/Fczi9) . Come join us on the blog for extra content.
> 
> We will be taking an intermission until posting Chapter 4 for personal and irl reasons, so come chat with us on the blog in the meantime - we have some stuff planned. 
> 
> big love,  
> sunny & sam


	4. lights, camera, RUN!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cracking open a cold one with the boys in ikea

There was a shriek that bounced off the walls of the photo studio as Shiro, Keith and Allura entered. A mane of long white hair appeared in front of Shiro as arms wrapped around him in a spirited hug. Keith watched them quietly beside Allura. Her lips were drawn into a tightly squeezed smile. Sour, was perhaps the best word for it. But her diplomatic aura somehow managed to keep it polite.

“Lotor, oh my god! I didn't know you worked with AMA!” Shiro said with a smile on his face.

“Come now, Shiro.” The stranger pulled back, equally as thrilled. “Have you ever met anyone who could match my brilliance with a camera? Or makeup even?”

There was a challenge in those eyes, though it was all playful.

“But enough about me. How are _you_?” His hand pressed fondly against Shiro’s arm. Well. Whoever it was, they were clearly pretty close - enough for Allura and Keith to remain on the outskirts of the moment.

“I'm doing pretty good actually. A lot better since the last time you saw me.” Shiro brought his other arm up to bashfully scratch the back of his neck. He did that a lot when the cameras were off, Keith noticed.

“Sorry you had to see that.”

“Honey, do _not_ even worry about it! The things I could _tell_ _you_ about Sendak and his band of merry men.” Lotor failed to notice the slight tension that built in Shiro’s shoulders. Keith did, which was no surprise. He stepped closer, frown set on his lips. Allura seemed to be right with him on that.

“Feel like swapping secrets?” Shiro smirked in spite of the concern, eyebrow quirked.

“Naughty!” Lotor laughed. Then his eyes glanced over to Keith for the first time. Keith, who had gotten even closer almost defensively. _Protectively?_ No. Not a chance. 

“And who is _this_ delicious piece of cake? Allura you never told me I was getting a package deal. I feel positively _spoiled_.”

Allura raised an eyebrow at Lotor; Keith practically scowled and fought bubbling irritation. Respecting Shiro’s friends was _kind of important._ But that didn't mean he appreciated the baseless flattery. It served no purpose and was unwarranted. Shiro reached out and took Keith’s hand with an easy smile. Surprise overcame the irritation immediately at the touch. Holding hands _\- right,_ they’d agreed to that. It felt so easy, so natural.

“This is Keith. We're announcing that we're together with this photoshoot.” _Fake._ “Keith, this is Lotor. We met back when I was with Sendak. He helped keep me sane for the most part. One of the few friends I was allowed to have.”

Keith felt a light squeeze on his hand; he squeezed back.

“Enough about the past!” Lotor said, perhaps just a hair too quickly. “I'm more interested in _this,_ as the rest of the world will be, I'm sure.”

His eyes hadn't left Keith.

“Come now, Lotor. You know me. I _never_ kiss and tell.” Shiro led Keith over to where they would begin taking pictures, seemingly growing more at ease with this entire thing. Keith wasn't exactly _surprised,_ Shiro must've done this plenty of times before. He was a natural on camera, _had to be_ for his career.

“You little-!” Lotor huffed, angling the camera stand better towards the studio light. Keith stared down at the clothes laid out, immediately spotting the dungarees. Whoever was planning to get him into _that_ better think twice.

“You don't like them?” Lotor asked, suddenly closer than anticipated. Keith must’ve been scowling more than he thought.

“Denim restricts not just your legs but your entire being.” It was true.

“That's a little dramatic.”

It was not dramatic, it was _true._

“Can't we just... wear what we’re wearing already?” Keith asked. “Everyone loves Shiro. He could wear _double denim_ and it would probably become a hit overnight.”

Allura laughed, but didn't share whatever it was she found particularly funny about that.

“Now then, everything seems to be in order. I'll leave you all to it.”

“You're not staying?” Shiro asked, in a way that made Keith curious. He sounded bewildered. Allura looked equally curious, tucking hair behind her ear. Her eyes drifted momentarily over to Lotor. They shared a quiet, weighted look. From where Keith was standing, Lotor seemed suddenly a little _too_ interested in the buttons on his fancy camera. Keith knew all about evasion, after all. With a sigh, Allura continued.

“I'm afraid that's not possible, Shiro. I've got many things to chase up, including your future job offers.” She walked over to him and they kissed each other’s cheeks. “It'll just be for a few hours. Call up Hax when you're done and we'll all get dinner together, my treat.”  

Another unspoken conversation passed between them, one Keith wasn't sure how to read, before Shiro let out his own sigh and nodded. And with that, Allura left the studio. Promptly, Lotor got to work.

“So, how long have you been together?” He asked, positioning the pair of them back to back. It was cheesy, but classic.

“A few weeks.” said Keith.

“About a month.” said Shiro.

Folding his arms, Keith smirked. It was a little lopsided, laced with something sincere.

“Sure it doesn't just feel longer than it actually is?” Lance had quizzed him on all the Relationship Questions. The details of fake dating Shiro were now _embarrassingly_ easy to recite. Or to correct if someone slipped up.

The camera clicked, startling both of them.

“I would apologise for catching you off guard but you two are so incredibly _dynamic._ Individually you look like you were born for the camera but _together,_ I don't have a word for it. Keep talking, act natural. This looks exquisite.”

A few more snaps of the camera occurred. Glancing up at Shiro, Keith reached for his hand, which apparently was the right thing to do if Lotor’s exclamation had anything to do with it. But it was just for the photos. Because they were fake dating. Holding hands was what couples did.

That was all.

It had nothing to do with the tingling in his fingers when Shiro had let go earlier.

**~**

The photoshoot went on that way for what felt like hours; posing in the studio, being modelled into countless different positions. Keith wasn't sure why Lotor had to take hundreds of photos in the same place. He and Shiro hadn't really hugged much before either, so holding it for twenty minutes and trying not to spontaneously combust was more than difficult.

Fortunately, nobody succumbed to spontaneous combustion.

“By the time this prints, Sheith will be all people want to hear about.” Lotor clicked again, inching a little closer.

“Uh, Sheith?”

“I assume that will be your couple name.”

“I like that. It has a nice ring to it.” Shiro squeezed back on Keith’s hand _because yes they were still holding hands_. Keith looked down at the floor, not sure whether to abandon the hand holding altogether or squeeze back. He decided to do neither, hand hanging a little limply in Shiro’s grasp.

“It does.” Lotor cooed, eyes drifting over to Keith. “He’s good for you Shiro.”

“He's also right here.” Maybe Keith was being petulant, but he could feel the pressure building unpleasantly in the back of his skull. Lotor and his private amusement didn’t help in the slightest.

“You have the prettiest pout I’ve ever seen. Shiro, your boyfriend is going to break hearts. Maybe even more than you.” Pause. A thoughtful hum as the camera flashed. “Maybe even yours…”

The comment was idle, but the implications were not. One glance over to Keith was all Shiro needed in order to figure out what was going on. The defensive behaviour, the quick terse responses: _evasion._ Keith was a private person, but he wasn't as quiet as he looked. Right now, however, he’d gone completely silent. For many reasons.

“I… think we should take a quick break.” Shiro draped his arms over Keith’s shoulders, following Lotor’s request. Bringing his hands up to finally untangle their fingers, Keith broke the pose. Not out of intentional rebellion, _Shiro’s words_. Head tilted up, eyebrows drawn together.

“ _We don't need a break.”_ He hissed whilst remaining as still as possible, though he couldn't help to wince at the next flash of light in their faces. Damn stupid studio cameras.

“Oh! That intensity is _delicious_.” Snap. Flash. Click. “Don't stop, Keith!”

Despite himself, Keith stifled a laugh at the enthusiastic encouragement. Shiro’s chest vibrated with amusement behind him. Keith couldn't pinpoint why that made him feel warmer. Shiro’s _arms around him_ may well have had something to do with that too.

Another flash of the camera shifted the scene. Sharp and cold. Keith reached out immediately. He squeezed Shiro’s hand out of reflex, teeth clenching. Apparently, that was enough of a signal.

“We’re taking a short break. For _both_ of us.” Delivered with the smooth charm of an actor, with no room for negotiation or protest. Because there was _no reason to_. Lotor set down the camera; Keith sighed in relief.

“We’ll take five. I don't want to lose this passionate spirit.” Lotor’s eyes flicked up to Keith. “Though I’m sure we can find it again.”

Well. As attention moved from the camera, Shiro came slowly into focus. He was a little too close. Stepping back, Keith gestured to the bench. They walked in a silence that was more loaded than it should have been and sat down. Keith knew where this was going. Keith was painfully reminded of their conversation many weeks ago outside studio two. He could sense it, the imminent return to that place.

“No offence, but that friend of yours is real weird. Sounds like he writes bad pornos in his free time.” The delivery was blander than anticipated. And the joke didn't quite make the cut, flopping pathetically. Instead, Shiro’s frown merely grew.

“You feeling okay, Keith?”

Keith could _hear_ the real question in that. Here they go. It was time. A shrug.

“Good as ever, I guess.” It was a throwaway response, with the clear intent to move them forwards and _away._ Shiro had to have noticed the pattern by now, had to _know_ something was up. Pursing his lips, Keith weighed up the options. He _cared_ for Shiro. He _wanted_ to make sure that was clear. But these were things Keith struggled to admit to even _himself._

“Sometimes-...” his breath hitched, fists clenched by his side. “Sometimes bright light like that is too much.”

“For your head? Like, migraines?” Shiro ventured, slowly but with confidence. If he seemed firm with the question, it might give Keith more incentive to respond. Allura used that tactic frequently; it often worked.

“Not exactly. I mean, it's a... whole range of things, really.” Unsure how to articulate it, unsure if he _wanted to_ , Keith continued swiftly. “Lance always describes it as ordering the house wine. You don't always know what you’ll get.”

“That can't be easy.” Shiro mused.

“Is _anything_ easy?” Keith countered sharply, hand rubbing his temple. His heart was racing, skin burning and sweat building on his brow. It wasn't often he ever got _this far_ in The Discussion. But it felt like they’d reached the edge of the cliffpoint. Any further and they’d catapult chaotically over it. Whilst Keith had a feeling Shiro would catch him, _he’d catch Shiro,_ he didn't want to find out.

Eyes trailed over to Shiro in the abrupt silence Keith’s words caused. It was only now he noticed that he wasn't the only one seeming to need the break. Keith wondered how often Shiro got a real break, downtime from the world and celebrity. When the cameras faded, when the spotlight was off, Keith had seen the gleam in those eyes diminish, his face wilt a fraction.

One of Shiro’s hands sat as still as possible atop his leg, while the other patted against his bouncing leg. It was something he had noticed Shiro did a lot when on a break, mostly in the back of a car or on the outskirts of the dazzling world that was Hollywood. Maybe it was an underhanded move, but Keith was genuinely curious. So that was why he asked.

“Hm?”

"How come you do that anyway?" Keith repeated, tension beginning to unravel.

Shiro’s mind came back into focus on Keith, steel grey eyes looking at him and trying to focus on his features. He wasn't sure what the other was talking about. He was coming out his own brain, his own mind, but still not totally in the moment. His paranoia had gotten to him very quickly and he needed time to calm down still.

“What?”

Keith leaned over, giving Shiro’s leg a soft pat. There was exactly as much muscle there as he expected, if not more. _Anyway._

"That. I noticed you do it, but you don't _always do it._ So it's not a habit, more that it has a set purpose or…” Keith tapped a finger against Shiro’s thigh thoughtfully, in rhythm with the movement. “It means something? I'm not sure.”

Realisation he was being incredibly invasive hit. It wasn't his intention, but that didn’t change the fact he _was._ The difference was staggering: Shiro addressed Keith’s situation with patience and care; Keith just sounded detached and analytical, _clinical_ \- even if he wasn’t.

“Sorry. Uh, if- you don't-"

He went to retract his hand, only to feel the cool metal of Shiro’s prosthetic reaching for it, holding it in place. Keith looked up, chasing those wonderful grey eyes. They were cast down, jaw momentarily clenched. Oh.

"It's called stimming. You might have heard of it.” Shiro began, the gentle bounce of his leg increasing a fraction.

“Can't say I have.” Keith admitted. “But I'm listening.”

“Some days I get really... anxious, I guess is a word for it? Or like, I just don't really feel like myself or feel like anything around me is real. It’s kinda hard to explain. But instead of letting it get to me and making me not totally here, I do this thing-”

“-Stimming.” Keith supplied, sensing this wasn’t a conversation to take a backseat with. Shiro nodded, the slither of a smile appearing.

“Right. It helps me stay focused on where I am, and it kind of reminds myself that I'm real and everything around me is real. On bad days I have this toy on a necklace that I chew on." The hand not holding Keith’s went up to the collar of his shirt and brought out two necklaces. One bore a pair of dogtags, and the other was purple lion head with small teeth marks.

Once the explanation was given, Keith noted the leg beneath his hand had gone completely still. Just the thought of Shiro feeling uncomfortable to be himself - he was under enough of a spotlight from the media - had Keith shuffling closer. Their knees bumped.

"Don't stop. I mean, this is... I didn't want to intrude on this.” Moving his hand away, Keith fixed his gaze ahead. "It makes sense. You can feel the sensations in your body reminding you that you're alive and where you are."

"Yeah. It keeps me grounded, you know?" He slowly started to tap his leg into his hand again. "I appreciate you not thinking it’s weird or something. I've had a few people tell me that and I'll admit that it’s messed with me. But I know it helps, so I do it for my own sake.” _One of the very few things I actually do for myself._

"Why would I think it's weird?" Keith narrowed his eyes, turning instantly back to Shiro. The words were a challenge - but not to Shiro, to the _world._ Again, he felt it. That strong _unyielding_ anger for the way people treated Shiro.

“If it helps you it helps you. That's what's important here, Takashi. You owe those jerks nothing."

“There it is! That _passion!_ ” Lotor exclaimed from the stage. “Keith, bring that boyfriend of yours over here. And your scrumptious pout.”

  **~**

“Scrumptious pout.” Shiro snorted, settled comfortably in the back of the usual limousine.

"Shut-up.” Keith shot back, lips twitching.

The shoot came to a close sooner than expected after the break. That, or it had something to do with the fact that everything had rapidly became a bit of a blur. Flashing lights weren't ideal in most situations, yet alone a day where Keith’s body was deciding to be particularly stubborn for the wrong reasons. Stubbornness may well be a trait he possessed, but it was exasperating to fight internally. Though in the absence of the camera, and the dim lighting of the limo, Keith was feeling substantially better.

“He had a bit of a thing for you.”

“No kidding.” Lotor had been anything but _discreet_ in his interest. Pause. Eyebrow raised, Keith grinned over at his friend. Fake boyfriend. _Friend._ “Jealous?”

“We’re dating, I don't need to be. I trust you.”

Keith spluttered clumsily on the beer he’d grabbed from the mini fridge, already prepared to correct Shiro. _Fake dating. Fake._ It was fake. But he quickly caught Shiro’s eyeline. Ah. Haxus. Keeping up the act up around as many people as possible just made the illusion more real. Keith wasn't sure behind closed doors, cruising leisurely down the boulevard in the orange sun, if that was the best idea.

Shiro seemed to be expectant then, something bright and playful in his eyes. Keith had spilt the beer on his trousers. Setting it down, he folded his arms.

“Yeah, well. He wasn't really my type, anyway.”

“And your type is?”

Keith could see Haxus’ neck crane a little, clearly eavesdropping into their conversation. The soft jazz music had dropped in volume, confirming as much. Sharing a knowing look with Shiro, _let’s have fun with this,_ he smirked.

“What do you think?”

“Well, _we are dating.”_ Shiro repeated.

Keith hated the flutter in his stomach. There was no reason for it. There was also no reason for Shiro to point that out  _again._

“That's not an answer.”

“So  _I'm_ not your type?” Shiro pouted.

“Maybe you're just an exception to the rule.”

“Hey, I can live with that. It just means I caught your attention.”

“You did.” Keith said, teasing ebbing away. In it’s place was something sincere and tentative. As their eyes met the pair of them shared a smile.

“Sir,” Haxus’ voice called out from in front, interrupting the easy flow of dialogue. “We’ve arrived at your destination.”

Funny. Neither of them had realised the car came to a stop several moments ago.

“-Thanks, Haxus.” Shiro made a move to climb out the car a little too fast, door opening. To his relief, an empty pavement greeted them. No press. No reporters.

Just quiet. And Keith right behind.  

**~**

Keith had forgone the generous offer of a luxurious dinner with Shiro and Allura, opting on coming home to his apartment with Lance. He could tell the event would be a push, too much for his body to deal with after the long day. Not just physically, _mentally_ and emotionally too. Dinner would mean being _in public -_ being on display. Dinner meant being on the lookout for nosy reporters, never _truly_ being able to relax.

And whilst Keith seldom cared how people saw him, capturing the attention of the entire world was quite a strain. Not the kind of weight Keith wanted to carry. How Shiro did it, Keith wasn’t sure. Though the tired creases beneath his eyes, dusted over with makeup before shooting a scene, said enough. Shiro _could_ do it, but that didn’t mean it was a sustainable or healthy lifestyle for the most part.

Upon cancelling, Allura had probed for an explanation. Shiro smoothly deflected it as Keith mounted his motorbike. Driving home had been a foolish idea. He’d almost skipped a red light and taken a dozen wrong turnings. By the time Keith had gotten through the front door, Lance somehow _knew._ He always knew. It would probably be freaky to anybody else. Looping an arm around Keith’s shoulder, Lance steered him to the couch which had already been set up as a makeshift bed. It was still more comfortable than the actual bed in Keith’s room. Tucked in and _tuckered out_ , Keith closed his eyes. A hand brushed through his hair gently, working out the product and tiny knots the wind had stirred on the ride home.

With a content hum, Keith had been out cold in minutes.

“Aw. You’re like a cat, all curled up.” Lance’s amused voice drifted over him.

 _Great._ If Lance was here and talking, it must be morning now. Keith _was_ a morning person to his own surprise, but not by choice. He naturally seemed to be up at ungodly hours. That didn’t mean he _liked it._ Meanwhile Lance was a _real_ morning person through and through, the kind that sang songs loudly whilst making breakfast and danced to the radio in the shower.

Blinking his eyes open with a gruff groan, Keith sat up on the couch. He wasted no time in throwing the pillow in Lance’s direction. Lance caught it with a smirk as he sat, hoisting Keith’s legs into his lap.

“Dude, you were completely out of it last night. I didn't get to hear anything about the studio!”

Keith shrugged, stretching his arms out languidly.

“Not much to say, really. It goes to printing today and will be out in two days time. The photographer was... strange, the lights were too bright, we held hands-”

“-You and the photographer held hands?”

“-No _.”_ Keith rolled his eyes, nudging his foot into Lance’s stomach. “ _Shiro_ and I held hands.”

“Is that so?” Wiggling his eyebrows, Lance grinned.

“Yeah. What do you expect? We _are_ fake dating now.”

“What about... _you know?”_

No, Keith did not know. Though he highly suspected where this was going.

“Kissing.” Lance clarified, a tamer answer than Keith anticipated.

“Only on cheeks.” Keith wouldn't exactly refuse a _kiss_ on the lips, but that was definitely a terrible idea.

“Which cheek?” 

_Oh, the cheek._

“Lance! _”_ He laughed anyway, mostly out of  disbelief for the sheer outrageous shameless words that sometimes poured out Lance’s mouth.

“ _Okay, okay._ You should probably get up considering Shiro will be here soon.” Pause. A glance at the clock. “ _Really soon.”_

“What?!” Keith jolted up, ruffling a hand through his messy hair.

 _That_ sure woke him up.

“Yeah, he kind of texted last night asking if he could come and see us. Apparently they're shooting other scenes today.”

They were. Keith wasn't needed back on set until tomorrow. But one thing about those words jumped out as an anomaly. And it wasn't Lance reading his texts, _because there was nothing new there._

“...Us?”

“Yes _us.”_ Lance repeated, marginally offended. But that didn't last too long. God. It was far too early for all of this. _Shiro was going to be here soon._ Shiro was going to be in their _house soon,_ Takashi Shirogane was-

“Come on mullet, time to get ready for your boyfriend.”

“- _Fake boyfriend.”_

“Man! I can’t believe I’m going to meet _Shiro,_ the famous actor, your boyfriend-”

“-Fake boyfriend,” Keith corrected again hastily, leaning against Lance’s bedroom door.

“Same difference.”

No. _It was not._ And it was alarming how his heart spluttered clumsily at Lance’s words. He _liked_ Shiro, but it wasn’t _like that._ Keith hadn’t felt _like that_ for some time. Surely at this point he’d know.

“Gotta look my best for your boyfriend."

Shaking his head fondly, Keith walked down the hall towards their bathroom.There was literally no point in  _correcting_ Lance anymore. Hot water at the ready, he got into the shower. Boiling or nothing. That was the only way to shower. Eyes pressed shut, Keith sighed. The heat was one of the only things that helped the stewing pain beneath his skin, alleviate the pressure a fraction.

“What if he hates me?” Lance said from the other side of the shower curtain. Unfazed, this happened a lot, Keith resumed his shower.

“ _Keith._ Come on, listen to me.”

Keith recognised that tone. It was the _whining_ tone, the one Lance used when he was serious about something but would never dare admit he was. Keith had become familiar with that tone very quickly. Lance was far more transparent than he thought. The worst part of it was that he saw through _himself_ in an angular, distorted way. Lance’s warmth and radiance was invisible to him and _only him._ He deliberately crammed himself into boxes he didn’t fit just to be thrown out. Intentionally walking himself into things he wouldn’t, because _rejection was common what else was there to expect._ Keith ran a hand through his hair, letting the water soak it slowly.

“... _Keith?_ Buddy? _”_

“I'm listening.” Keith craned his neck forwards to stand beneath the hot water. It hit just the right spot. It was good. Better than good. _Very good._ What Lance was saying, however, was not very good at all.

“What if Shiro hates me? What if he finds me annoying and he won't want to talk to me again?”

Reaching out for a towel, Keith turned the water off. Towel secure, he pulled the curtain back. And got Lance’s face pushed far too close to his. Puppy eyes and all. Lance had the audacity to claim _Keith_ was the one with the big doe eyes. A few slow blinks later, Keith gently manoeuvred past him.

“ _I_ find you annoying and I still talk to you.” Wet footprints were made against the tiles as Keith walked towards the hallway. Lance followed, mopping the water away. 

“That's _not helping_ , Keith!” He cried. “We've known each other for years! It's different.”

Closing his bedroom door, Keith dropped the towel and picked out the usual clothes. Comfortable, light-weight. Probably due to go in the laundry soon.

“We have a past rivalry!” Lance said from the hallway. Keith sighed. _Again_ with this.

“No we don’t. That rivalry was _you_ pitting yourself against me in class for no reason besides being insecure about your virtues and _you know it_.”

“Ugh.” A soft thud, Lance’s head against the door. Keith smiled lazily. “I hate it when you're right _and_ perceptive.”

Jacket slung over his shoulders, Keith opened his door. The smile faded at the sight. Lance’s eyes were vacant; glassy. Conflicting emotions strived to win over his face. It was enough to have Keith smushing Lance’s feet with his own playfully. There was no response, which was slightly worrying.

“ _Hey_. Just be yourself, Lance.”

Looking up at Keith quietly, Lance’s eyes widened. Even now, after years of friendship, he never seemed to know how to deal with praise or _genuine_ comments. Especially from Keith. They were working on it.

“What?”

“You heard me.” Keith bumped past him lightly. He headed downstairs, damp hair curling around his face.

“Okay, I guess.” Lance trawled behind him, already sounding a bit better. “But are you _sure_ it’s okay? I kinda feel like I’m gatecrashing your _date-”_

There he was. Back on form. Keith whipped his head round, scowling. He could feel the tips of his ears growing hot. With the messy bun exposing everything, Lance definitely noticed. _Damn this._ Keith was half tempted to take the hairband out. But that would mean Lance _won -_ that could not happen. Arms folded, Keith stuck to the strategy he knew most successful.

“It’s _not_ a date. You organised this with Shiro anyway, so what does that make you?”

“I’d say either your wingman or your-”

“- _Don’t answer that,_ it was rhetorical.” Keith’s lips twitched against his best efforts to be serious. Sometimes it was _hard_ to scold Lance. “Look. We’re just hanging out, _like we always do.”_

“Just two guys, hanging out-”

Keith ignored the interruption, promptly continuing.

“-He wouldn’t have asked to see _both of us_ if he didn’t want to. Shiro’s a busy guy.”

There was a knock on the door that left them both speechless.

Shiro - the busy guy, the Hollywood moviestar - was also _here_ at their house. They looked at each other, nodded, and Keith went to the door and opened it. Shiro stood there in the most casual outfit Keith had ever seen him wear. A simple black shirt with a light grey jacket over and a pair of jeans and boots.

“Uh hey, Sh-”

“Welcome!” Lance interjected, boisterous as ever.

“Lance, right?” Shiro asked, outstretching his hand. It was out of reflex, and also him trying to be polite. But he saw Lance’s moment of hesitation, the small glance he made towards Shiro’s arm, the metal one, the one that _wasn’t really his._ Lance shook it nonetheless, but Shiro saw that moment. He hated that moment, though he wouldn’t tell anyone. He just continued his way through.

“Keith’s told me a bit about you. And I’m glad that you were okay with me coming here.”

“Of course!” Lance beamed. “Keith let your _boyfriend_ in!”

“Lance!” Keith shook his head as Lance disappeared into the kitchen. Glancing back sheepishly, he cast his eyes down. For some strange reason the patterns he could make with his feet on the carpet was far more appealing than looking Shiro in the eye. Or in his direction. _And that was unusual,_ because Keith was not a fidgeter. But here he was. Shuffling. _Fidgeting_ with his feet.

“I- ha. It’s -” _Stuttering too_. With a sigh, Keith managed to draw back some composure. “He knows. By the way. About- about you know. It’s - he just likes to…” _He likes to tease._

Shiro gave a soft laugh, then entered the house. Keith closed the door behind him and led him to the dining room. Here was another moment where Keith despised the horrid choice in tablecloth. Shiro either didn't seem to notice, or was too much of a gentleman to point it out. Or worse: _he liked it just as much as Lance did._

“Do you want something? Coffee?” Keith asked. Raising an eyebrow, a smirk slid up his lips to deliver a private joke. “Juice?”

“I thought I was banned from juice a few weeks ago.” Shiro’s eyes glinted mischievously.

“I’m willing to reconsider it.” Pause. Keith wasn’t sure _why_ but the words that definitely weren’t needed came out coyly. “Once again, you’re an exception.”

Keith could hear the rattling cease in the kitchen, _way to be unsubtle Lance._ It only proved how awkward this encounter felt. Two friends, fake dating, standing in a corridor exchanging a strange kind of smalltalk. Shiro seemed unfazed, simultaneously a relief Keith hadn’t pushed too far and exasperating. Keith could tell, Shiro was being polite. Not that he _wasn’t polite._ But this was _super polite,_ the kind of polite you are when you visit your partner’s parents for the first time. _That_ was a parallel Keith immediately regretted making for many reasons. Besides, Shiro wasn’t the only culprit. Lance was also putting on a bit of a face, over-exaggerating himself and talking a few decibels louder than normal. Keith hoped both of them would tone it down and drop the _acts._

“Coffee’s fine, thank you.” He smiled.

“How do you take it?”

“Black, usually.”

There was an exasperated gasp coming from the kitchen and Lance's head poked into view.

“This is _blasphemy_.”

“You’re _both_ a disgrace.” Keith clicked his tongue, glancing between the pair of them. “Everybody knows that coffee is the most demonic substance on the planet.”

“Yeah okay, _Giorgio._ Keep your conspiracies to yourself I’m going to enjoy my strawberry and creme frappuccino with extra pumps of vanilla and toffee nut.” Lance retorted.

“Who’s _Giorgio?”_ Shiro asked, confusion palpable in his expression.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you _ask Keith_ .” Leaning against the door, Lance smirked. He looked immensely proud of himself. Showing off. Or trying to. _Or deliberately trying to embarrass Keith._ Both were absolutely unacceptable scenarios. Keith nudged the door a fraction as he stepped inside, knocking Lance off balance. _Deliberately._ Stifling his grin, Keith cast Shiro The Eyebrow. Shiro rivalled his own look. For an actor, he wasn't doing a good job at hiding his smile. Then again, maybe he didn't want to. Maybe Shiro was-

“-Anyway,” Keith started _because that's enough of that._ “How come you wanted to be here, Shiro? I mean, it's good to have you here. But I'm just curious. We could've gone anywhere. So what gives?”

There it was again, Keith’s keen attention to detail.

“Didn't you read my text?” Shiro hummed, momentarily confused. Lance set the mugs down, pointedly ignoring Keith’s _pointed_ look.

“ _Lance_ did. I was... a little out of it after the shoot.”

That earned a concerned look from Shiro, eyebrows lifted and a slight pout on his face. Grey hues glance all around Keith’s face, then to Lance for some sort of support.

“Ah sorry.” Lance said, having the decency to look a little sheepish. “I was sorta freaking out about meeting you, I forgot to mention you wanted to talk to us.”

Keith’s attention snapped back to Shiro at that.

“About what?”

It was Shiro’s turn to look sheepish. He took a sip of his coffee and set it down with a soft sigh.

“Well, a while back you made a comment that’s kind of stuck with me. You stated that the furniture in my _trailer_ was nicer than your own bed. I know it was probably a throwaway comment, but it stuck with me. So…”

He looked up at them a little nervously. He didn’t want to overstep, but he figured he’d might as well just ask.

“How would you two feel about taking a little road trip to IKEA and getting some nice furniture? I’ll pay for all of it,” he said, before either of them could start. “I just want you two to be comfortable.”

“Woah what?! Holy crow _are you serious?!”_ Lance exclaimed, a hand slamming down on the table. He was probably more excited about a road trip with Shiro.

Keith, who had been all too quiet, set his own hand down as he stood from the table. Nowhere near as forcefully, but enough to draw their attention. He knew Shiro was coming from a good place, but it didn't change the irritation burning beneath his skin.

“We’re not some charity case for you to throw your money at, Shiro.” It was simultaneously sharp and blunt, tension rolling off his shoulders.

Shiro looked at Keith with what he hoped was a neutral expression, though it was hard to hide the soft bounce of his leg. His heart was going a million miles a second. He had overstepped. He was planning how he was going to talk his way out of the house with an apology, a promise to never impose, and that if Keith preferred, they could stop fake dating.

“ _Keith_ , dude. Calm down. Back up a second here.” Lance rose to his feet, hands placating. “Shiro is doing something nice for us, because he _wants to.”_ Pause. His voice became hushed, lowering in volume. “ _Because he cares._ Not everything is about owing someone something.”

“Lance is right.” Shiro managed, prosthetic squeezing his own thigh tightly. “You’re my friend, Keith. And he’s your roommate. And I want you both to live comfortably. And if I can help you do that in some way, then I will.” His expression was one of the utmost care.

“We’re _fine,_ Shiro.”

“Keith. Your bedframe has been wonky for over _two years._ The mattress is awful. Last night you slept on the couch and that happens more often than you actually going upstairs. You _know_ it isn't good for your-”

“- _Lance.”_

“I’m sorry.” Shiro said softly. “I’ve clearly overstepped, and I am so sorry. I’ll just leave.” He stood up, pushing away his still mostly full cup of coffee.

“You don't need to apologise. It’s _not that,_ it’s just-” Keith met Lance’s eyes who seemed prepared to step in salvage this. Better not mess this up then.

“I wasn't expecting it, is all. If it means that much to you, then we’ll go.”

“Let’s go get this done!" Lance cheered. "Come on, Keith! I’m driving.”

“Shiro, I'm just wondering. How did you get here?”

“Lotor.” Shiro said to Keith’s surprise. Realisation and a pinch to his nose.

“Of course. You haven't told her. Allura is going to kill us.” Keith stated. A poor excuse, and proof he’d already yielded and accepted this was going to happen.

“She won’t kill either of you. Sure, she’ll get mad, especially if we get caught. But as long as we don’t get caught we should be okay. But none of that heat will go to you guys, I promise.” His face was set, his voice unwavering. Like a promise should be.

Keith was never big on promises. Still, he could hear the sincerity in Shiro’s voice. It was enough for him to nod weakly, which gave _Lance_ enough encouragement to step past him with a cheeky hip bump.

“Of course it will be fine. Besides, we already have the perfect disguise ready.”

Keith was no fool. Waiting for whatever ridiculous idea Lance had, he leant against the wall. And now _Shiro_ was lost. He raised an eyebrow from Lance, to Keith, and back again.

“What do you mean?”

Dashing out the room, Lance hummed a melody as he went. Keith took the opportunity to glance over to Shiro, feeling horribly _awkward_ for the first time in his presence.

“Hey.” He said, hoping to catch Shiro’s focus. “I appreciate you doing this for us.” _For me._ “Nobody’s ever really… cared that much before. But I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to do this.”

A hand pressed into Keith’s shoulder, reassuring and warm. Immediately, Keith felt a little better. Then a casual shrug.

“It’s me. Do you really think I’d do something I didn't want to?”

 _Yes._ Yes Keith did. But voicing as much was futile. Smiles were gently exchanged, atmosphere finally lifting. In that moment, Lance sauntered back in with his hands behind his back. Which could only mean one thing in Keith’s eyes. Lance paused for extra effect, then slowly pulled the items out. A snapback, a pair of winter gloves and sunglasses. Shiro was already wearing a long sleeved jacket, which was good. Keith wasn’t sure any of their clothes would fit round those strong broad shoulders.

“Say hello to _Sven.”_

“Sven?” Keith asked, staring at the obnoxiously bright blue snapback as if it had personally offended him.

“Keeping it topical. Sven is a Swedish name, and we are going to the international capital of Sweden.

“That's… not how capital cities work, Lance.”

“Gees, it was a joke.”

“No _this_ is a joke because this is never going to work!” Keith exclaimed.

“I don't know. Lance may be onto something here.” Shiro said with a chuckle, already slipping the snapback onto his head. Keith was _surprised_ at how good it looked. “I've worn worse things before and gotten away with it.”

“You see?” Lance grinned, slipping on his trainers and opening the front door. “Trust me on this! Nobody will recognise him!”

Keith and Shiro - _Sven_ \- followed to the car, a small but earnest thing with rusty paint. Lance looked proud, which made Keith smile. He’d saved really hard for that car, and after a few tweaks it ran without problems. Noticing Shiro make way for the back door, Keith gently nudged him to the front.

“How often do you sit up front?” Keith asked, holding the door open for him.

“Not a great deal.” Shiro admitted, slipping inside. Making his way to the back, Keith buckled his seatbelt. That was enough of a cue for Lance to take off to the road.

“Oh man! This is so cool. Feels like we’re parents taking our kid out on a day trip.”

“Don't ever say that again. As if I would ever marry you.” Keith responded flatly, but there was fondness laced in his voice.

“I was talking to Shiro.”

Shiro snorted at that.  

“Keith! Put your seatbelt on. Don't make me come back there!” Lance glared pointedly into the mirrors.

“It’s already _on!_ And you should probably change gear.”

“Quit backseat driving, mullet.”

“I will when you stop being the worst driver ever.”

“ _I will when you stop being the worst driver ever.”_

“Once again, that doesn't even sound like me!”

“ _Once again, that doesn’t even sound like me!”_

“Can you just _knock it off?_ ”

Shiro, bemused and unable to hide his smile, flicked his eyes to Lance. It felt comfortable here, relaxed. The pair of them bickering away but not with any real malice or bite. Something like a routine between them, a habit they couldn’t break.

“Are you two… _always_ like this?”

“Like what?” Lance and Keith asked simultaneously.

“Nothing.” Shiro smiled, looking out the window.

“We’ve got about an hour drive ahead of us, so let’s put on some tunes!” Lance hollered, CD already prepared. Keith knew _exactly_ what was on it. Sitting up, he folded his arms.

“No Shrek.”

“What’s wrong with Shrek?”

There was a problem with that question. It hadn’t come from _Lance,_ it was Shiro asking. Grin widening, Lance fist pumped the air quickly in success.

“I _knew_ you liked memes!”

“I _love_ memes.”

“I’ve climbed out of windows in _moving cars_ before,” Keith started. Sometimes it was even included in the job description. “I can do it again.”

Shiro laughed, mostly in disbelief.

“What is it with you and _climbing out windows?”_

“The man’s right. You keep your filthy window-climbing obsession under wraps.” Lance added, turning a corner smoothly.

“Keith. We’re already dating, there’s no reason to try and impress me anymore than you already have.”

Catching sight of the _smirk_ on Shiro’s face, the _bigger smirk_ on Lance’s, Keith tried his best not to lose his composure. But he could feel the heat rising. _We’re already dating._ He knew what that meant, they _all_ knew it was just a joke. One Lance was _definitely_ going to call up later. And it was then he realised: Keith had made a very bad mistake. Bringing Lance and Shiro _together_ was proving to be his undoing.

A shrug, Keith ignored both of their mischievous expressions. For extra measure, he started unrolling the window. He has no intention of actually performing the stunt, but they both deserve to be kept on their toes for this blatant double team.

“Who said I was impressing you? Maybe I was trying to impress Gertrude.”

“Who’s Gertrude?”

“MY CAR.” Lance cheered happily, catching Keith’s eyes in the mirrors. “Aw Keith, you’ve never called her by name before. This is a development.”

“Why Gertrude?”

“Well I’m glad you asked _...”_

Against the backdrop of _Smashmouth’s_ All Star and Lance’s prattling, Keith leant back and closed his eyes.

This was going to be a long car journey.

**~**

“You know that the only way this will work is if I start speaking Swedish, right?” Shiro stated as they exited the car. He hadn't laughed or smiled that much in a while and it was nice to be able to have that.

“Do you even know Swedish?” Keith asked, suspecting he already knew the answer to that.

“Ja, lite. Jag heter Sven,” he replied.

“Of course he speaks Swedish…” Keith muttered to himself. Honestly, he wasn't even surprised that Shiro could speak another language. Or that he could even speak it with an impeccable accent. _Golden boy Takashi Shirogane_ , always had to try and one up the world. Not to mention the _actor’s curse:_ being insufferably and endearingly good at _everything._

“Oh _oh!_ Do you speak any other languages?!” Lance asked excitedly. Keith could tell it was also _hopefully._  

“Japanese, Spanish and a bit of Portuguese.”

“No way _hosay!_ No way! Tú hablas español?” Practically _bursting_ with his giddy joy, Lance jumped forwards and knocked into Shiro’s shoulder. Keith could see the sheer _elation_ and admiration radiating from his friend. “Dude, I’m from _Cuba._ My family lives out there, near Varadero beach. Oh _man,_ this is so awesome!”

“How about you, Keith?” Shiro asked curiously, noting he’d gone a little quiet.

Keith, who could speak barely passing Korean from time to time, pursed his lips. He didn’t really want to bring that up. It simply opened up a whole set of questions that related back to his past. That was a subject he wanted to avoid _entirely._

“Yeah. I speak cryptid.” He said instead, earning a groan from Lance. “How else do you think I could communicate with bigfoot growing up?”

Shiro smirked at that, nudging Keith’s shoulder. A smile tucked into the corner of his mouth, Keith pushed back. Silence drifted comfortably over the trio as they made their way through the furniture section. Already sensing the imminent disaster, Keith rolled his eyes and prodded Lance in the arm.

“Hm?”

“Don’t use this trip as an excuse, Lance. No more weird tablecloths. The fruit one is enough.”

“What’s wrong with it? They’re cute.” Lance responded with a slight pout, which just proved everything Keith suspected. He really _was_ on the lookout for more terrible additions to ‘add life’ to their place.

Tablecloths were just the start.

Shiro laughed beside him, and it did something _curious_ to his insides. So curious in fact that it had Keith reaching out instinctively and entwining their hands. By the time he realised just what exactly he was doing, it was too late to let go. Letting go would mean _acknowledging_ he had initiated the hand holding, and his heart was hammering too loudly in his mind he really couldn’t trust his own voice. It made sense: they were out in public, they were also fake dating. Hand holding was a thing that was bound to happen, that was all there was to it.

Eyes fixed ahead, Keith felt Shiro swing their hands lightly. That really did _stranger_ things to his stomach. Lance was eyeing their hands with the giddy mirth of a child, looping his arm through Keith’s. Lance on on side, Shiro on the other. Just existing in the moment together. It was incredibly cheesy, but it felt warm and comfortable.

Keith wondered what he’d done right to _deserve_ this moment.

And of course, that was exactly when it was disrupted.

“Sorry,” An unfamiliar voice said to their right, bringing the three of them to an abrupt halt. Following the girl, a group of teens hovered close. “Is it really you? We weren’t sure at first.”

Well _shit._ Promptly aware of the hand holding, Keith broke it off and folded his arms. He _knew_ this was a terrible idea. They’d been in here for less than twenty minutes and already people were taking notice! Allura really _was_ going to kill them. Shiro opened his mouth, about to speak and unpeel his disguise. However, one of the teens jumped in first.

“Dude! You were just so cool on Coran’s show, especially when you did that stunt.”

 _Wait what._ Keith glanced over to Shiro in confusion, then back to the small group. His eyebrows rose impossibly high, because they weren’t talking about Shiro. They were talking about _him._

“Stunt double Keith.” One of them held out a hand. Keith wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it but bumped his fist lightly against it nonetheless. “I’m a big fan of yours, man.”

“Uh… thanks?” Keith said in response, unsure of what exactly was happening and how to proceed. This was definitely a _new thing,_ being recognised in public like this.

“Do you guys want a picture with him?” Shiro asked in a voice that was not his. _Keeping himself hidden_. Keith felt momentarily betrayed, but plastered a smile onto his mouth. It must not have been very convincing, because Lance started laughing quietly beside him.

“Yeah I know.” Lance said to one of the girls that was staring at Keith in a mixture of confusion and amusement. “He’s not just a stunt double, he’s an emo double. Hire him to take your place at any event, he’ll get the mood serious again.”

“Better than being a _ridiculous_ double.” Keith countered. He knew it was lame, and hardly a good comeback. But he was startled by the books being thrust his way and selfies being taken. Huh. They wanted him to _sign stuff._

It was then that another group of people passing by seemed to take notice of the commotion. They walked over and Shiro watched as they eyed up him, Keith and Lance. The two younger members of the group seemed excited about Keith, the little boy pulling on one of the dad’s hand and asking for a picture with _the cool guy from the TV_. The little girl however, was staring directly at Shiro, which made him uneasy. He tried his best to not pay attention, but every time he looked back, those big brown eyes were looking directly at him.

And then she let out an excited squeal and ran to him, attaching herself to his leg. Shiro tensed, clearly startled. He didn’t know what to do or say. It was clear that she had recognized him, but he didn’t want anyone else to as well. He was glad Keith was getting some well deserved publicity, and didn’t want to take away from that. He also wasn’t the best equipped to handle children.

He took the child’s hands and pried her from his leg. “Keep this a secret, okay?” He said in a low voice. “I don’t want today to be ruined. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded, then skipped back to her Dads, who both looked apologetic. He just smiled in return, raising a hand to wave it off. His insides felt all tangled up, but he was dealing with the aftermath of almost being spotted. He just needed to focus on something else. _Someone else._

He walked a bit aways and sat down on the couch for one of those small rooms that wasn’t really a room. Being out like this in public was unusual, a little jarring. Shiro was trying not to get attention for multiple reasons, the least of which was because he didn’t want to deal with Allura afterwards.

“You alright?” Lance asked, sitting down next to him.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m good. Just letting Keith having his time to shine, because that’s what he deserves. I don’t want to take from any of that,” he replied, looking up to Keith who was finishing up with the last few signatures and pictures.

“I don’t think he’ll thank you for that. But you’re right. Keith is really talented.” Something wistful was there. It was swept aside with a whistle. “Man, you know I can’t really believe I’m sitting here with _you._ In IKEA!! And yet, here you are, being too good to be true. You’re perfect. How is someone like you  _even real?_ ”

Clearly, Lance was a little enamoured and slightly nervous to be alone with his idol. A celebrity. Shiro shrugged off the compliment. He definitely wasn’t perfect.

“I’m just like everyone else, just trying to make sure my friend’s know that their work is amazing and people should take notice. I’m just being a good friend. People try and put me up on this pedestal because of what I’ve been able to accomplish, but honestly, I don’t really like it. I’m a regular guy. I make mistakes, I mess up. I’ve been known to be a coward before. I’m still a human being, not some _object of perfection_ that people should try and mimic. I wish people _didn’t_ want to be like me.”

Lance was quiet for a moment, taking in what Shiro said. He placed a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

“You’re a good guy, and a good friend.” Eyebrows wiggled. “ _And_ a good boyfrie-”

Fortunately at that moment, Keith walked back over.

“-Why’d you guys leave me?”

“Look at you being recognised in public now.” Lance teased. “Must be the mullet, superstar.”

“Hardly.” Keith frowned at the nickname, taking the spare seat. “This could potentially sabotage 3am McDonald’s.”

“ _Good!_ ” Lance exclaimed. Keith looked positively affronted. “You're not supposed to eat that anyway you _know_ that.”

Shiro glanced curiously between them, wondering what that meant.

“Is that- because of…?”

That had Lance turning to Keith with a raised eyebrow, who ignored it. Keith knew what Lance was thinking. Lance was the only person he’d _ever_ talked to about it, the one who had sat with him at the hospital and helped him finally get answers. This was big, and Keith couldn’t escape that fact. But he could avoid acknowledging it.

“No.” Keith folded his arms. “I’m also lactose intolerant.”

“Last week you ate ice cream.” Shiro said, dropping him right in it without remorse.

“I love ice cream.” Keith countered.

“Yeah but your _body_ doesn't you dingus.” Lance dove forwards, ruffling a hand through Keith’s hair. Instead of ducking his head and resisting as Shiro expected, Keith actually nudged a little more into the touch.

“Don't call me a dingus, doofus.”

“Don’t call me a doofus, _dingus_.” As Lance removed his hand, Keith whined a little. He couldn't help it, it felt nice and Lance knew that. He was deliberately sabotaging Keith’s Coolness. “See Shiro? He's just a little kitty cat.”

The name had Keith sitting up immediately. Scanning the area for people’s attention, relief came when nobody seemed to have overheard Lance.

“Let's go.”

Standing up, Keith gestured to the signs leading towards the beds. Swiftly, Lance and Shiro stood. Another customer barged past them in a rush, as a result knocking into Shiro. The pair of them collided with force.

“Oh!! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, accidents happen.” The accent was somehow still kept up. But in the process of being knocked, the snapback and sunglasses had fallen off. Lance was desperately scrambling for them.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. It's Takashi Shirogane!” The woman cupped her face in shock.

And that, was when everything changed. Within minutes, people started swarming around them. It was a different reaction to Keith being spotted in isolation. Shiro placed himself between his friends and the crowd. He was tense, but he didn’t want to make it worse by having them deal with it. He was used to this, they weren’t. With an apologetic smile, he started to usher them away. It was professional and confident enough to have a few people nearby stepping back.

“Sorry, everyone. Can’t do any fan stuff today. I have to go. But it was nice to see you all.” He kept backing away yet the crowd kept following. That was hardly helping his anxious heart.

“Run!"

Lance and Keith didn't need to be told twice. Off they took through the store, bobbing in and out of other shoppers and various display areas. A few people started watching and even _cheering._ Keith wasn't showing off exactly, but he didn't even try to manoeuvre round obstacles. Instead he turned it into an impromptu movie set of stunt potential. Shiro couldn’t help but _laugh_ as they ran. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. He was finding this fun, more fun than he’d ever expected to have. And it had been a long while since he had actually had _fun_ with _friends._ So he let himself have this moment.

After about five minutes, they found a deserted spot besides some hideous carpets to catch their breaths. Shiro was still wearing the biggest, dumbest grin on his face. He panted slightly, then looked at the other two. Keith seemed fine, which he expected. Lance, however, was laying on the ground.

“Is he gonna be alright?”

“He's fine. You should see him in the water. If mermaids were real, he’d be one.”

“ _They are real!”_ Lance snapped, catching a breath as he gave a thumbs up. “Seriously though, don't worry about me. You guys should keep going. The crowd won't recognize me so I can get out to the car.”

Shiro listened, but remained still. Keith also didn't like the idea of just ditching Lance.

“We're still good. Sure we got caught by a few people, but so what? It's not like there were any reporters.”

As if on cue, a trio of reporters walked round the corner. They were hot on the trail for their next headline. Shiro had never hit the floor faster, bringing Keith down on top of him, so as to make sure he didn't hurt him. The carpets almost toppled onto them in the process. His mind went a million miles a minute as he tried to think of a plan.

But Lance was too quick.

“ _What are you doing?!”_ Keith hissed.

“I'll meet you at home!” Lance took the sunglasses and hat and ran straight into the reporters. “He dropped these! Come on, I know we're close!” He led them away from where Shiro and Keith still lay on the ground. Gosh.

“Well, I guess that works.” Shiro mused, taking a moment to regather himself. “Though I would have thought of something if he had just given me more time.”

“You didn't have any time. They would have spotted you once they reached the next display area.”

Keith offered Shiro a hand as he stood, which was accepted. Both on their feet, their hands seemed glued together a fraction too long. This tended to be happening a lot since the photoshoot yesterday. It wasn't Keith’s fault it was nice, much nicer than he expected - even if the past few minutes had officially ticked every romcom cliché.

“Feels like we’re in a deleted scene of _Across The Universe_ or something _.”_ The words were so natural, Keith didn't realise what he’d exposed until Shiro stopped by the fire escape doors. Turning, Keith caught a gleam in Shiro’s eyes.

_Oh no._

“Wait - you've watched _Across The Universe?”_ Admittedly, Shiro was surprised. And it didn't take long to put two and two together. If Keith hadn't known who he was in _his own trailer_ all those months ago, then for someone so observant there was no way he could have seen it until _after they met._

Recently. Keith had watched it recently. A grin flashed over Shiro’s face. It was an expression Keith knew he needed to shut down _fast._ Pushing the door open to the backyard of the store, Keith shrugged. He tried for casual; he failed miserably.

“Only because it was on the TV and Lance wouldn't give me the remote.”

The truth was, Lance owned a very extensive DVD collection. Whereas Keith’s own stash was more obscure and dated, Lance had shelves upon shelves of movies. And of course, Shiro’s work was part of that. The fact Keith had asked Lance for a crash-course on Shiro’s top films a few weeks ago was besides the point. Nobody had to know, _especially Shiro._

This was just a Freudian slip.

“ _Anyway,”_ he changed the subject quickly, because Shiro was _still_ grinning too much. “You should probably call Lotor, see if we can catch a ride.”

The grin fell, replaced by a grimace.

“I'd rather... _not_ spend more time than I have to with him.”

“Really?” asked Keith before he could stop himself.

Of all responses, he had not been expecting _that._ From what Keith remembered of yesterday, the pair of them seemed pretty chummy at the shoot. There had been offerings of open arms and wide smiles. But maybe Shiro’s smile hadn’t been everything Keith thought it was. After all, Shiro _was_ an actor - a damn good one. Playing parts and wearing masks was part of the job description. Shiro could probably say and do anything with enough conviction and people would believe it without hesitation. But being famous, with _famously_ good looks, probably had something to do with that.

“Yeah...” Shiro rubbed the back of his head, almost nervously.

“Thought you guys were friends.” Keith ventured, careful not to push too far.  

“There’s a lot of history there, sure. And Sendak only let me talk to him because he’s Zarkon’s son. But honestly? He makes me a little tense. Especially yesterday. It just seemed like he was-” Shiro cut himself off, shaking his head. “Forget it. It's dumb. I'll just call Allura.”

“Won't she be mad?”

“Oh she'll be livid, but I promised that you won't get any of that. It's all on me, okay? Don't even worry about it.” Shiro replied, dialling Allura’s number.

Keith wasn’t worried. But he also wasn’t looking forward to _this_ particular meeting. Keith could tell from the conversation he tried not to eavesdrop into that yes - she was indeed mad. And given how close things had gotten to becoming a real full-blown disaster, and a front cover story, he didn’t blame her.

Perching on the ground of the sparse yard, Keith scanned the area. Sure it wasn’t particularly anything spectacular. More like a backstage behind the scenes dumping ground, tucked away from the public eye. But it was away from the main traffic and out of the way of staff. Lance had taken the reporters work in circles, however there was no telling when they could next be spotted.

So here they sat, and half an hour passed relatively swiftly.

“Allura’s here.” said Shiro at the buzzing of his phone. Keith could tell from the silence that had stewed up until this point that Shiro was tense. Icebreakers weren't his specialty, but for Shiro he’d give it his best shot.

“You look like someone who ran track.” He got to his feet. Shiro followed, contemplative.

“Actually, baseball was more my thing.”

Baseball, huh. That was interesting.

“Who knew, the wonderboy is full of surprises.”

Shiro nudged Keith forwards playfully.

“First to the car wins. We'll discuss a prize later.”

Keith snorted.

“What are you, seven?”

“Six, technically.”

Confused Keith was confused. That absolutely couldn't be right.

“Leap year baby.” Shiro clarified.

“Well. Good thing Lance and I were here to supervise you, then.” Or not. The trip hadn't exactly ended as planned.

“Come on, Keith. Winner gets free ice cream for a week."

Hook line sinker.

" _F_ _ine_ , you're on.”

**~**

By the time they hit the road in Allura’s SUV, the evening sky was a beautiful mix of purples, pinks and oranges. It would have been tranquil, _should have been_ in any other situation. But Allura and Shiro had been arguing basically since the moment they left the parking lot of IKEA. Keith wasn't that big on superheroes, but the power to become invisible would sure be handy here. Or better: flight. Because this was not something he should be hearing or a part of. He already _was_ invisible in the height of their dispute.

“Shiro, you're not taking this seriously enough!”

The dispute that was _still going._

Shiro let out an exhausted sigh as he leaned his head back against the headrest of the back seat. He knew her heart was in the right place, but it didn't make it any less tiring. Allura’s hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly, visible distress in every part of her body.

"The AMA photos haven't even come out yet! But if the paparazzi had caught you going _furniture shopping_ before those come out-"

“You're the one who wanted us to date to begin with because you wanted for me to have good press for once!” Anger seeped through the words. Shiro was visibly tired, his mental state was not the best right and though Allura didn't deserve it, he was taking it out on her anyway.

Headlights of passing cars flickered to life, the engine gave a roar as Allura picked up speed both in words and driving.

 _“_ The media will think he's moving in with you-”

“-Where does it become a bad thing that I want him to move in?”

Keith perked up at the words. _What._ He couldn’t have heard that right. Shiro didn’t mean that.

“They'll think you're rushing into it, and it won’t be long before negative press invades the one good thing you have to your name right now!”

Shiro’s fists were held tight, the whites of his knuckles showing. He was shaking slightly. All day he had been trying to keep it cool, for Keith and Lance. And now all of that was coming down because Allura was upset with him, and he hated himself for the tone of voice she was speaking in. There were cracks that exposed too much, a rasp that only came when her eyes became a little glassy. _He had done this._ Again. And now he was putting Keith smack in the centre of this too.

“Shiro, _please._ You have to understand this: your last relationship was with Sendak. And we all know how that ended.”

“Why are bringing this up? Why now?”

“Because you can't let the media think you're rushing into a new relationship. They'll think you're still too unstable.”

_Unstable._

Perhaps not the best choice of word. Allura herself seemed to grip the wheel tighter, lips pursed tightly shut. Shiro went numb. He started patting his leg, breathing hitched slightly. His paranoia was encompassing him so quickly but he didn't want it. He told himself where he was, who he was, and who was with him. _Car. Takashi Shirogane. Keith. Allura._ Right then was not the most ideal situation for a breakdown.

“We have to do this right. We can’t afford for-”

“- _Hey._ ” Keith finally spoke up. Keith, who was here. In the car. With Allura. And him, Takashi Shirogane. “Pretty sure we’re all adult enough here to make our own decisions _.”_

Allura took the words almost as sharply as the next corner, eyes narrowing.

“I was not suggesting otherwise. As I said, my concern is with the media.”

“Concern? More like _obsession.”_

“I'm sorry?”

"What the media thinks doesn’t count as much as you seem to think it does.” Keith responded fiercely. Watching them throw these words back and forth was becoming not just uncomfortable but _frustrating._

“You’re wrong about that, Keith. Though I’m aware you lack experience in this area.”

“I don’t need _experience_ to point out you’re being a little irrational.” Keith wasn’t the biggest supporter of their spontaneous IKEA trip either, he’d admitted from the outset it was a poorly conceived idea - but what was unfolding here was bigger. Once more, he was getting glimpses of something from the past. _Allura’s_ dark past. Shards of untold stories tore through what should’ve been an unwinding journey.

“I'm not being irrational.”

“I think you are.” Keith challenged, waiting to gauge the reaction. In actuality: they _all_ were.

“The media can make you or break you.”

“No, it can make or break an _illusion.”_

What came was unexpected even by Allura herself; sheer desperation.

“-My father’s success was **_not_** some fanciful illusion!”

Leaning forwards in his seat, Keith folded his hands together. _Ah,_ so there was more here beneath the surface. This entire conversation was a disaster waiting to catapult into something far more destructive. There was too much unspoken, too much _unknown._ Despite the words burning on his tongue, the desire to get answers and fit this puzzle together, Keith yielded _for all their sakes_.

For Allura, whose composure had splintered and revealed more than she wanted anyone to see.

For Shiro, who had remained unspeakably quiet, leg bouncing up and down and teeth gnawing on the purple lion in the way Keith knew signalled things were going south fast.

Eyes darting between the pair of them, he frowned. It was difficult in the height of exhaustion to _try_ and hide his disappointment and _exasperation._ Keith wasn’t stupid, it was clear several different conversations were happening here and he had absolutely _no clue_ what most of them meant.

“Look. There’s no point discussing _whatever it is_ we’re discussing anymore. Allura, I’m sorry Lance and I agreed to take Shiro out like that. We should’ve run it by you first. You’re right about it being irresponsible. Shiro...”

Meeting Shiro’s eyes slowly, Keith sighed.

“We’re here, Keith.” Allura’s voice was clipped, cutting off whatever he could have said. Not that Keith knew what it was he _wanted_ to say anyway. Stepping out the car, an absent wave cast in Allura’s direction, he was surprised to find Shiro walking him to the door. At least nobody had gotten wind of where he lived. _Yet._

"So, you gonna tell me what... _that_ was all about?" Keith asked, stones crunching beneath their feet. Maybe it was too direct, too _personal -_ but he was irritated. Even a little angry. Keith hated part of him was feeling _selfish_ for wanting to walk from this. Allura and Shiro had let loose at each other, right in front of him. It was all a little overwhelming to witness.

Lance poked his head through the curtains, blatantly spying. It would’ve been funny in any other situation. Right now, the tension was simply stretching further over them. Shiro opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't find the words. Still coming back to earth and not really knowing how to explain his and Allura’s relationship, how to explain all the messy details of their lives in the spotlight.

“Forget it.” Taking out his key, Keith twisted it in the front door. Pushing was wrong. And Shiro couldn’t just _stand here_ \- someone was going to take notice sooner or later. “I’m not gonna push you further than you’ve already gone. Or Allura. Catch you on set.”

With that, Keith closed the door.

His fingers itched to grab the handle and pull the door open again. To apologise for things he hadn’t said and hadn’t done. An irrational _thing_ distorted everything, it made his head hurt and his heart burst with something that knocked the breath from the lungs. Little did Keith know, Shiro felt the exact same things. He almost knocked. Almost.  

Well.

So much for _smooth sailing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this self-indulgent and we're not sorry ahahah. all of itlab is something we're just enjoying writing so much! we wanted to touch base with a few important themes. juxtaposing keith & lance's bickering in the car against allura, shiro and keith's journey later is just one example of the parallels we wanted to bring in. this is a chapter that starts to build and develop some deeper stuff to come later for these guys. 
> 
> thanks for being patient with us on the update! next one is in the works and Things are starting to Happen.... ;) 
> 
> big love,  
> sunny & sam


	5. taking shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *strums guitar* AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for alcohol (all characters are of age) and mention of past abusive relationships, be safe!

An agent, an actor and a stunt double walked into a bar.

If only that could be the start of an elaborate joke, but alas it wasn't. Nothing about the brewing tension was _ funny _ or remotely enjoyable. The three of them sat at a private table, in a silence that spoke louder than any words could have done. Allura folded her hands together on the table, expression stern. She had already finished her drink. Less than five minutes had passed. 

Keith honestly had no idea if it was alcoholic or not. He hadn’t been able to focus on anything besides the thumping of his heart in his chest. Despite the time of day - late morning - he could understand if it  _ was  _ something stronger than water. He also wouldn’t put it past Allura to be capable of knocking back several shots with no problems. 

So Allura was visibly tense, Keith was contemplating grabbing whatever Allura was having and  _ Shiro -  _ Shiro wondered how he could disappear into the void of space with immediate effect. He and Allura still weren’t on the  _ best  _ terms, barely speaking out of business, and he had absolutely no idea where he sat with Keith. Keith who had  _ closed the door on him. _ It was all almost too much. It probably  _ was  _ too much, but Shiro was trying to ignore it. 

Until Allura finally spoke, that was.

“I got you both scheduled for an interview this weekend with Coran.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit soon?” Shiro asked, unable to help the slight bounce in his leg. It had barely been a few days since the IKEA incident. And now Allura was doing  _ this _ ? What a Monday.

Keith frowned - it was definitely too soon. One time on live television was quite enough for him. After that fiasco, he wasn’t sure about being in the limelight like that again. There was every chance he’d trend on Twitter, or worse: the pair of them would together. And Shiro still hadn't spoken to him. Ordering a drink from the bar was becoming more and more tempting.  _ What a Monday. _

“Shiro’s right.” Keith could feel eyes on him,  _ Shiro’s eyes, _ but dared not look. “This story sounds like it will run itself. Best not to fuel it.”

“I’m afraid your  _ outing  _ to IKEA has already done that.”

A magazine was pushed forwards. Keith had a feeling that Allura was more concerned about gauging  _ his reaction  _ than the content itself. Scanning the page, Keith spotted some Instagram shots of him and the teenagers, alongside a ridiculous headline. Damn. The press sure knew how to evoke emotions; right now Keith was feeling more than irritated by the straws they were grasping at. He nudged the magazine to the centre, a pawn on the chessboard between them. It felt more like defeat than he wanted it to.

“Therefore,” Allura started, sweeping the board with shimmery nails. “It would be beneficial for the pair of you to clean up this mess before things spiral out of control."

“Out of your control, you mean.” Keith was definitely pushing his luck, walking on eggshells here. The tension between the three of them was more than palpable. Neither Shiro or Allura said a word, glancing quietly at each other.  _ Well,  _ then. More secret conversations. More secrets in general.  _ Just great. _

“I’ve... got a scene to shoot now.” Shiro stood abruptly, heading to the door. This really was too much. He couldn’t handle the way Allura was looking at him or the way Keith  _ wasn’t  _ looking at him. He couldn't handle the way Keith was talking to Allura and  _ wasn't  _ talking to him. Everything was a mess,  _ his fault.  _ He needed to go before it became worse,  _ because of him.  _

Keith watched him go, lips pursed. Before he had the chance to consider calling Shiro back, the actor had left the scene.

“There was another matter I wanted to discuss with you.” Allura began, regathering his attention swiftly.

“What's that?” Keith couldn’t help but sound a little irked. Whatever it was, the fact she waited to bring it up and  _ now  _ without Shiro had alarm bells ringing. It wasn’t that he didn’t  _ trust  _ Allura - simply that he was wary.

“My sources confirm that my theory could come true, people may suspect you are living together. Not only that, you were spotted in public by fans. Therefore,” Pause. Something told Keith he should’ve had a drink to hand for this.

“I think you ought to move in with Shiro.”

_ Make that two drinks. _

“And what? Just let the rumours grow?” Keith asked, attempting to bite down his rising frustration. “The rumours that you were so set  _ against _ spreading in the first place?”

“It would be in your best interests and personal safety.” Allura explained. “If your popularity increases, you may put yourself and Lance in a bad position.”

At the mention of Lance, Keith sat up in his seat. Allura nodded firmly, proving once again she had him hook line and sinker.  _ Damn it.  _ Somehow she had figured out how Keith operated from a mere handful of meetings, how far he would go for others he cared for. Or it was all a clever bluff Keith couldn’t ignore. He’d fold his hand each time for the sake of the people that stuck by him. There were less than a handful, and he valued them more deeply than he could ever articulate.

“Moving in with Shiro would give you security,” Allura continued. “It would prevent any nosy reporters stalking you to your home and trying all sorts of things.”

“Yeah. I get that.” Keith couldn’t  _ deny  _ people could be terrible and take things too far. He’d barely had a taste of  _ this level  _ of fame and it was a little daunting. “But it’s just - what you’re asking me is... It isn’t something I can just decide right now like that. It -  _ Lance _ … he’s-”

Raking a hand through his hair, Keith sighed. It  _ would  _ be best of them. Allura had some good points. But his place with Lance was more than just a place to live _.  _ They had built that together, worked hard together to make it possible.  

“I need a bit of time.”

“Very well. I won’t make any arrangements until I hear from you.” Allura said, pushing out her chair.

“Thanks but -” Keith attempted to school his expression into something more neutral. “Either way, I can make my own arrangements.”

And he  _ really shouldn't have,  _ but the words kept toppling out.

“I’m not Shiro. And just because I agreed to this...  _ scheme  _ doesn’t mean you can micromanage every aspect of my life.”

The pair of them stared each other down. Allura tilted her head upwards, pride evidently snubbed if the slight twitch of her shoulder had anything to say about it. But besides that, she refused to let any weakness in her defences show. Keith was no better, holding his ground and staring firmly back.

“Be sure to inform me of your decision.”

“Yes ma'am.” It was cheeky, it was  _ rude.  _ Allura shrugged it off, shrugging her own jacket onto her shoulders. One final glance in Keith’s direction was cast before she too left the scene.

Keith ordered two shots of sambuca. He downed them to the click of Allura’s heels.

What a Monday.

**~**

“So why’d you call me, Keith?” Hunk asked down the phone.

In any other situation, Keith would've been relieved that the obligatory smalltalk was over. The conversation had started a little awkward, but they’d gotten through it. Right now, however, he was not glad for that part being over. Because that meant spilling the beans on this whole thing. Clearing his throat, Keith drummed his fingers against the phone.

“Can’t I-... just call you?”

“Keith.” Hunk began flatly, immediately catching onto the Evasion.  _ Damn his friends.  _ “You  _ can  _ but you never call me. And that’s fine, I don’t expect you to call me because I know how phonecalls make you feel.”

Surprised, Keith felt something warm fizzle in his stomach.

“Oh.” He managed, barely. “Hunk. That’s…”

The sentence escaped him, which fortunately was overlooked by Hunk.

“I always have to call you first so if  _ you’re calling me  _ then something is definitely up. Why me, Keith? Lance is right there to talk to if you need anything and-”

Pause. Keith held the phone tighter, biting down on his lip. Hunk inhaled quickly, a likely indication  _ he understood. _

“Ah. Ooooo.” Yep.  _ Definitely  _ understood. “This is about Lance.”

“No!” Keith snapped quickly. “...Maybe _.” _

“Keith.”

_ “ _ Okay, yes!” Keith exclaimed, throwing a hand up. “ _ Fine,  _ Hunk! It’s about Lance.”

“Alright you’re talking to the  _ Lexpert  _ here. That stands for Lance Expert, Lance and I made it up together when we were seven years old.”

Rolling his eyes fondly as Hunk deviated, Keith snorted.  _ Of course they did. _

“So, what’s the situation?”

Sigh. Keith tried to compose himself, but since this morning it had never left his mind. The words were whizzing around to no end, causing nothing but distress. And  _ breathe.  _ Pressing his eyes shut for a moment, Keith pinched the bridge of his nose to alleviate some of the pressure in his head.

“Another headache?” Hunk asked in the brewing silence; Keith could almost  _ hear  _ the growing frown.

“If you can call it that. Feels like someone went to town on my skull with a sledgehammer.” He drawled.

“Oh man. Stress makes it worse, Keith.”

“Yeah.  _ I know that.”  _ Keith didn’t need that reminder. But in replying, he’d admitted far more than he wanted to.

“So you’re stressed about something and it’s to do with Lance. It’s okay, Keith. I’m here to listen.” Pause. “Well. For another ten minutes, then I have to go.  I kind of have a really big exciting project I can’t tell any of you about yet because it’s gonna be on  _ TV  _ and-”

“-It’s okay Rocket Man.” Keith interrupted, perching on the edge of the sofa. “I spoke to Allura this morning. The press seem to think Shiro and I are living together. But now I’m getting attention there’s a chance some creep could follow me home one day. She - she thinks I should  _ actually _ move in with Shiro for my own safety. It wouldn’t be  _ forever  _ obviously, just until this whole thing cools down.”

“Oh. Wow.  _ Wow  _ okay.” Hunk supplied, tinkering coming to a complete stop on his side of the line. “But… Lance-”

“-I  _ know.” _

“What are you gonna do? You can’t just -  _ leave  _ Lance.”

“I could be putting him in the middle of a really bad situation, Hunk. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Lance doesn’t care about that. He cares about you. Do you even care about him?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith narrowed his eyes, tension breaking over his voice. “Of course I care about Lance. That - that’s why I’m  _ asking  _ you for advice, Hunk.  _ Come on! _ ”

“I’m sorry, Keith.” Hunk began yammering. “I’m just… You know, I get  _ protective _ over Lance. He’s been through a lot and I just don’t want him to get hurt by anyone, including us. _Especially_ us.”

“That's exactly why I think  _ maybe _ I should listen to Allura on this. We… worked really hard to get our house together. I don’t want anything to happen it.”

To  _ their lives.  _ Because it wasn’t just a house, it was a  _ home.  _ Something in Keith’s tone seemed to indicate as much; Hunk’s voice softened.

“I don’t know, Keith. I get that you’re looking out for both of you, but Lance might not see it that way. I mean you know, since he still has doubts sometimes.”

Curious, Keith leant forwards to lean against the counter.  _ That  _ was unexpected.

“About what?”

Hunk went silent, something dropping to the floor on his side of the phone. He was nervous.

“Okay. Man, I  _ really  _ shouldn’t have said that or be telling you this, this is like-”

“Hunk. Talk.  _ Now. _ ” It sounded important, it sounded like something Lance wouldn’t tell Keith directly. Which meant it  _ had  _ to be about him.

“Sometimes Lance doesn’t think he’s good enough to be your best friend okay  _ there! I said it.  _ I just betrayed the friend code I hope you’re happy! _ ” _

_ What _ . Eyes wide, Keith clutched the phone tighter.  _ No.  _ They’d been through this, they’d  _ put it in the past.  _ Keith was sure of it. Heart racing, Keith almost missed the sound of the front door unlocking. The familiar footsteps brought his attention back.

“Thanks, Hunk. I - I have to go now. Talk later. Bye.”

With that, Keith abruptly cut off the phone. But not in time for Lance to catch the final few words.  _ Too many  _ if the sly look on his face was anything to go by. Bumping Keith with his hip, Lance shuffled past him to sit on the couch.

“Hunk, huh? Since when do _ you guys _ phone each other?” It was nothing more than the usual light teasing, Keith could already predict the oncoming joke about his lack of social skills coming. But all Keith could  _ hear  _ in Lance was something that shouldn’t be there. All he could see in those bright eyes was the shadows in the corners. Something that maybe wasn’t even there, because his head was pounding and Hunk’s words wouldn’t go away. 

_ Doesn’t think he’s good enough. _

“Where’s  _ my  _ phonecall, mullet?”

“You’ll be getting your fair share of those soon. Don’t worry.” was all Keith could bring himself to say. Not  _ do you really think that,  _ not  _ I thought we were over this -  _ none of the exasperation and bitter sting of being the crux to Lance’s  _ doubts _ .

“That sounds ominous?”

Keith wanted to throw a usual quip back, smirk and smush Lance’s foot playfully. For the first time, he didn’t want all the facts because the facts hurt. The facts were pressing down on his chest and prying open the cracks in his heart. Catching his breath, Keith clenched a fist.

“Allura thinks I should move in with Shiro.”

There. He said it. And he couldn’t even catch the wave of relief because where it should’ve hit instead something terrible broke over Lance’s face. It was quickly hidden, smile forced over lips that just wanted to sink. But Keith saw it. Lance stared at Keith, a small laugh slipped out. It was hollow and lacking the usual cheer. Averting his own gaze, Keith chewed his lip. Lance remained uncharacteristically quiet.

“Because I got spotted out in public, she thinks it’s just gonna get worse for me. If I stayed with Shiro then there’s less of a risk people will camp outside our house and spy on us. It would just be for a few months. Allura thinks it’s for the best.”

Looking up, Keith couldn’t quite meet Lance’s eyes. He tried, but he wasn’t sure what he would see and that  _ scared him.  _ The silence was enough.

“Lance. Say something.”

“What do  _ you _ think, Keith?” He asked. The words were drawn out slowly and with clear conscious effort.

“I-...”  _ Okay.  _ Okay. “I mean, it makes sense. I guess? We could get scooped up into real trouble if anyone knew where I lived and-”

“-Then you should go.”

_ “ _ **_Lance_ ** **.** ” Keith stood up, hearing the lack of  _ anything  _ in that voice. As he took a step forwards, something snapped in Lance. “I wasn’t finished.”

“I’ll be fine without you for a while.  _ Great,  _ actually. Less pasta for me to cook.”

The words would’ve been funny in different circumstances. But it didn’t sound like Lance was joking around. If he was, then he didn’t care to show it. Keith felt his heart lurch uncomfortably because Lance seemed to assume that meant they’d  _ stop talking too. _

“Why-... Why are you  _ being like this?!”  _ Keith practically growled, heat swelling in his chest and pouring through his veins.

“I can’t help my personality, Keith.”

“That! That right there. _That_ is what I’m talking about.” Gesturing wildly, Keith glared at him. “If it’s _not okay_ for me to go then just tell me!”

“I told you it’s fine to go.”

“I think you’re just saying that because you’re upset.”

“Why would I be upset?”  

_ Doesn’t think he’s good enough to be your best friend. _

“Argh. I can’t  _ believe  _ this!” Keith hissed. “I wanted to make this decision with you - for you, not - not  _ in spite  _ of you. _ ” _

“Why, Keith?”

It sounded like a test. Keith hated tests, especially ones he wasn’t prepared for.

“Because I thought we were friends and this is  _ our house.  _ But Hunk - he just… then  _ you…  _ Am I even your friend? Or do you see me as some stupid  _ benchmark  _ to leap over?”

The emotion bled back into Lance, he became suddenly animated.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you have doubts. About our friendship.”

“I,  _ woah.  _ Keith... I think you need to sit down you’re shaking.”

Lance was right. Keith  _ was  _ shaking. But he couldn’t yield, couldn’t be  _ distracted. _

“Quit stalling. Answer me, Lance!” Keith blinked back the moisture in his eyes. They hadn’t fought this bad for  _ years.  _ All the bite and genuine frustration sprung back in between them.

Maybe it had never left.

“Listen. I can’t  _ help it,  _ okay? Not all the time, you know that. But you’re just so cool with your stunt double stuff and your effortless confidence and your famous fake boyfriend Shiro. Then there’s me with my car Gertrude and my job at the leisure centre.”

“So it’s true.” Keith did his best to ignore the growing lump in his throat.  _ What Hunk said was true. _ “You don’t think we’re real friends. After  _ everything.” _

“No. Keith. It’s not  _ like that.  _ I do think we’re friends I just-”

“-Just what? Think I’m stringing you along for fun and one day I’ll drop you and our friendship in cold water for something better?”

“Isn’t that what you’re about to do  _ right now? _ ” Lance retorted without hesitation, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

“That’s unfair.”

“Well that’s how I feel, Keith.”  

“You’re right.” Keith said, heading to the door. “I should go, I- I’ll go. Give me a few days to pack some stuff and I’ll be out of here.”

_ For a few months,  _ burned on his tongue but didn’t come out.

That night, they ate dinner in separate rooms for the first time in five years.

**~**

The moment the door shut to his room was the moment everything fell apart for Shiro. He wasn't sure what exactly happened but he remembered waking up with his face feeling damp. He got up and stumbled his way to the mirror in his bathroom and he was able to see that his face and eyes were red and blotchy. Okay then. That happened. He splashed his face, dried it and decided to head downstairs.

He was surprised to see Allura sitting at the table with a ton of papers in front of her as well as her laptop, tapping away at some document. She hadn't talked to him in days. The most communication they’d had was when she told him to meet at that coffee shop and then when she told him and Keith about the interview. Before that it had been radio silence. Anytime Shiro had called her, Shay would answer. He liked Shay and all, but sometimes he needed Allura -  _ his agent and best friend - _ to answer.

“It's about time you woke up. It's nearly four.” Allura said without looking up at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a long week.” Shiro spat back. “I got into a fight with my best friend and I'm pretty sure the guy I'm supposed to be fake dating hates me.” He didn’t look at her, just went to the kitchen and made himself a drink. Some easy scotch to help ease up.

“Bring me a glass of that.” She called from the dining room.

Shiro rolled his eyes but brought the liquor and two glasses. He sat down across from her with a sigh. She glanced up at him for a moment before looking back at the papers. He poured them each a drink and handed one to her. She took it and drained the contents. He poured her another, which she drank again. Rinse and repeat. The third time she didn’t take in a shot, rather she sipped at.

“That stressed, huh?” Shiro remarked.

“You could say that. I’ve had to jump a lot of hoops to cover your little stunt.”

“Are we really gonna do this? Now?” The bitterness and anger seeped in so easily.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Would you rather try again in a month? When your career is in the toilet and Altea Industries has been long forgotten?” She was pissed. Shiro could tell with the bark behind her words.

And now he felt like an asshole.  _ Again. _

“Allura, look. I'm sorry we got caught. But I'm not sorry for the trip itself. Keith has shown me more kindness in these few months than most people have after years of knowing them. And I wanted to return that kindness somehow.”

There was silence for a moment. Shiro was looking at Allura, but she was staring down a word in the paper she was reading.

“I know I'm not the best when it comes to relationships. And I don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to, well,  _ anything.  _ But I want you to know that I am sorry for any stress this has caused you.” He leaned forward.

After a moment, Allura sighed.

“I get that you're trying to be a good friend. I just wish you had run it by me first. I'm your agent, as well as your friend. I want to keep you safe. I couldn't do that with Sendak. And I will never forgive myself for-”

“Hey, whoa.” Shiro was immediately holding her hand. “That's not on you. None of what happened with Sendak is on you, okay?”

Truth be told, Shiro blamed himself for being so naive while dating Sendak. He hated how far South things had gone and that he had been stupid enough to not see it coming. He wasn't going to let Allura think any of that was her fault.

“No, Shiro. I should have been more vigilant and-”

“Allura, listen to me. Sendak was manipulative, nasty and just plain evil. The things he did to me…” He trailed off. Allura was now holding his hand with both of hers. “That's not on you. It never has been and it never will be.”

“It isn't your fault either, Shiro. I know you blame yourself but that's not fair. He's the one who-”

“I decided to go out with him, Allura. I said yes.”

“But you also said no.”

That caused Shiro to pause. He held his breath for a moment before slowly letting it out. She wasn't wrong and that's what killed Shiro the most. He looked up at her and they both saw the vulnerability in each other's eyes. They were both terrified of messing something up. And they both were especially terrified of losing each other. Neither really had anyone else in their lives. It had just been the two of them for so long.

“You got a bad enough rap from the media from Sendak. Both while you were with him and after you broke up. I don't want that to happen again and for people to twist things into something it's not.” Allura stated, shifting closer.

“I know you are, and I really do appreciate it.” Shiro brought her hand to his lips. “I'm sorry I make it so hard sometimes.”

“We used to be able to tell each other anything. I guess I just miss that sometimes.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I do, too, if I'm honest. I miss having my best friend.”

“Tell you what: for the next twenty-four hours, we're going back to that. Just Allura and Shiro hanging out, staying up way too late, eating our weight's worth in food and ice cream.”

Shiro's face lit up and he let out a laugh.

“I'll go get the blankets and pillows, you order pizza and get Netflix set up. The dream team is back!”

“Yeah it is!” Allura laughed, eyes brightening. It had been a while since she had laughed so genuinely.

Once everything was set up, they picked one of their favorite movies and began to watch. It felt like home again. But then a feeling of dread found Shiro once more and he paused the film.

“What about Keith?”

Allura sighed.

“You should probably tell him why we're protective of each other. Sure he knows about Sendak, but you should probably also tell him about my father.”

“Is that okay?"

“It should be from us. Not somewhere else. And we owe Keith an explanation for our behaviour.”

Shiro paused again. 

“He slammed the door on me. He probably doesn't want to  _ see _ me, let alone talk to me.”

Allura looked at him a moment before shaking her head with a small smile.

“Trust me. Just say you need to talk to him and tell him everything. I'm sure he'll understand.”

“But how do you know?”

“I’m Allura. I know these things. Now play the movie and pass the popcorn."

**~**

Keith wasn’t  _ avoiding  _ Shiro, exactly. No. But the fact they’d hardly spoken since the IKEA incident and Monday played heavy on his mind. That, and  _ everything else. _

The truth was he’d hardly spoken to  _ anybody  _ lately. Lance was coming home later from work. And Keith wasn’t sure what the  _ hell  _ he could possibly to do make things right. He’d done the dishes two nights in a row, he’d sat through Lance’s favourite  _ awful  _ movies without offering  _ any  _ kind of critique - but that hardly felt like progress. Especially when Lance remained quiet and detached.

Despite being alone for most of his life, Keith wasn’t inherently a lone wolf because he  _ wanted  _ to be. He was a quiet hushed kind of lonely, the kind that ghosted right through busy bustling streets and noisy crowds. It was a kind of loneliness that went unnoticed by others, because it existed in  _ the presence _ of others. And that was fine. That had just the best way to operate for the good part of twenty years, before Lance came into his life with Hunk and opened his eyes to how damn  _ good  _ it was it to have real friends.

Running a hand over his eyes, Keith groaned. He missed Lance. He missed his best friend’s goofy jokes and ridiculous comments.

He missed Shiro, too.

“What’s up with you?” Pidge asked, startling Keith with her presence. “Kinda zoning out there a little.”

Turning his attention to the tech genius, Keith pursed his lips. She was tinkering away with the electronic console in her hands, eyes fixed down. That was good. At least Keith didn’t have to make eye contact and lie  _ directly  _ to her face.

“It’s nothing.”

_ It was not nothing. _

“So it’s not nothing.” Pidge clarified, seemingly having read his mind. Damn. A small laugh escaped Keith’s lips. He ducked his head a fraction. Pidge truly was incredibly perceptive. She could probably hack into even the most secure of vaults.

“That obvious, huh.”

“Uh, yeah.” Pidge scoffed as if that comment  _ itself _ was obvious. “Maybe you don’t realise this Keith, but you’re actually one of the easiest people to read I’ve ever come across. Your body language is practically screaming everything you’re thinking and feeling all the time. It’s fascinating to watch.”

_ What.  _ Posture straightening, Keith folded his arms. Eyebrows narrowed as he considered the statement. Even if that  _ were  _ true, nobody really bothered to look his way that much before. But  _ now,  _ now he was thrown into the centre of this Hollywood romance -  _ fake romance -  _ with Shiro and he had fans of his own. Well. Now this was truly concerning. If Pidge could read him, who else could? 

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Pidge grinned, adjusting the glasses on her face. “Mortals tend not to be as observant as me.”

Keith blinked, a twitch in his fingers. Sometimes it was  _ really hard _ to tell if Pidge was being serious or not. Pushing the glasses down the bridge of her nose, Pidge leant forwards.

“Yes that was a joke, Keith.”

“Can you just -  _ cut that out! _ ”

“Cut what out?”

“Reading me like that.”

“But you make it so easy.” Pause. Unaffected, Pidge raised her eyebrows. “Oh. This ought to be interesting, your boyfriend’s headed this way.”

The word boyfriend had Keith stumbling clumsily over his own breath. It took a few seconds to regather himself. Looking across the studio proved Pidge was right. Shiro  _ was  _ really coming this way. Simultaneously, he was met with relief  _ and  _ dread. Oh god. Was Shiro going to fake breakup with him? Would he do it publicly? Was their friendship over too? Was-

“-Hey.” Shiro said, finally by their side. An awkward silence brewed between the trio. Pidge glanced skeptically between the pair of them, undoubtedly trying to figure out the situation. Meanwhile, Keith and Shiro played an interesting game built on evasion. Their eyes were consistently lagging behind the other. Clearing his throat, Shiro broke the silence - but not the ice, not quite yet.

“Can we talk?”

Keith felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably in his chest, mind reeling.  _ Talk.  _ It was official, then. He’d been craving conversation with Shiro for  _ days.  _ However, something told Keith this was hardly any ordinary conversation. IKEA, the car,  _ slamming the door,  _ just might have something to do with it.

“Jaw clenched, arms folded, eyes down - you’re frustrated and scared.”

 _Yes thank you_ **e** ** _nough of that,_** _Pidge._ Shiro looked bemusedly over to Keith. Out of spite for Pidge’s assessment - an _accurate one -_ Keith unfolded his arms because he could. That had Pidge cackling under her breath.

“...Can we talk somewhere private.” Shiro reiterated, sparing a glance to the technician stood between them.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Keith should have started walking then,  _ usually would have,  _ but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes remained fixed on Shiro, legs rooted in place. Uncertain. Unsure. Shiro didn’t  _ look  _ angry or upset. In fact, he was entirely unreadable which simply unnerved Keith more. Because Keith had certainly been making a habit of rubbing people the wrong way lately, people he  _ cared  _ for.

As Shiro slowly stretched out his hand to ahead of them, Keith grit his teeth. He hated the impulse that came to reach out and  _ hold it.  _ Ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

It took more self-control than he expected to ignore that. So Keith walked with determination, despite his rocketing pulse. Whatever this entailed, he would have to just  _ face it.  _ Nothing could change this moment.

“Shoulders hunched, posture tense, footsteps forceful all of which suggests to me currently you-”

“-Okay, I  _ get it  _ Pidge!” Keith called over his shoulder sharply, not appreciating the analysis of his character.

“What was that all about?” Shiro asked as they walked out the studio. It was clear he was trying to ease the tension, chip away at the atmosphere bit by bit. Keith would gladly help with that, if that’s what Shiro wanted. But Shiro did a lot of things for the sake of  _ others.  _ There was every chance this was another one of those times. There was the unmistakable strain to his voice, which indicated as much. So Keith merely shrugged, eyes trained forwards.

“Pidge being Pidge.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

And that was that. They walked a few paces more in painful silence, before reaching the same bench they’d sat at a few months ago. The bench where Keith had slumped in defeat to the whims of his body, where Shiro had sat patiently and supported him. Where things were  _ okay.  _ It was kind of poetic to find themselves back here again. Also a little cheesy. Keith would have said as much if his tongue wasn’t burning in his mouth and turning all his words to ash. Keith sat with a soft thud.

**“** So.” Shiro exhaled, taking a seat on the bench. Damn. Keith  _ really _ owed him an explanation for what happened in the car. 

“I owe you an explanation for what happened in the car.”

Wait.  _ What.  _ Eyes wide, Keith turned to Shiro.

“Shiro, it’s - you don't have to-”

“-No, I do.” Shiro said sternly. “Allura and I went at each other in front of you. You didn't deserve to see that.

“You weren't the only ones.” Keith pointed out, recalling the hard slam of the front door. Letting Shiro take responsibility for it all wasn't right. Shiro was  _ always  _ doing that.

“Please…Keith, let me explain.”

It was a question, an imploring one. But Shiro’s words were confident, well rehearsed. Unsurprising considering he had spent hours - days - constructing this conversation. Like a script to memorise, Shiro had meticulously looked over every word. He wanted to get this right, for both of them. Ruining  _ whatever _ he had with Keith was too terrifying.

“I’ll listen.” Keith agreed. “ _ Only  _ because you're giving me those starry swoon eyes and it might be working.”

That cracked the heavy mood a fraction, also  _ cracking _ a smile over Shiro’s face. It lasted but a few seconds, as Shiro prepared himself to deliver his next lines. Well. Here goes.

“Allura and I have known each other for almost nine years. We met back when I was Broadway. She came to one of my shows and the moment she saw me she told me her father that I was the one she wanted to help get places.”

“Alfor, right?”

“Yeah.”

Shiro laughed softly at the memory, fiery determination not unlike Keith’s; her hair had been shorter back then.

“Allura saw the potential I had, Alfor too. Around the same I got serious with Sendak, her father got really sick. I… don't know if you know about Altea Industries.”

Keith shrugged. He’d definitely heard of it, but didn't care to keep up with stuff like that.

“Pretty sure they’re the biggest casting agency for Hollywood entertainment.”

“Were.” Shiro corrected, sadly.  _ Oh.  _ Keith gaped, amazed he hadn't pieced it together sooner. All the pieces had been right in front of him. Leaning forwards in his seat, he frowned.

“What happened?”

“Once Alfor got sick, all sorts of things started to happen. Shows plummeted, ratings dropped, people quit. The whole company went belly up within a month.”

Pause. Shiro took a breath, trying to push the budding anger out his voice.

“When Alfor died, the media went insane. There were stories everywhere and it was hard to tell where it was all coming from.”

They had said awful things.  _ Awful.  _ Shiro remembered Allura standing tall and proud, valiantly chasing the rumours off. He also remembered drawing Allura into a hug behind closed doors, feeling her shatter in his arms.

“Allura took over the company, and brought it back from the brink. It's… still got problems, especially since Sendak and I ended, and Galra Press has been thriving.”

“But Allura’s your  _ agent.”  _ Keith said, confused. , though this was an entirely new story. “How can she run the company and do that?”

“Shay and a few others help run my PR team. I'm her first big project, and she wants to prove that Altea Industries is still a force to be reckoned with that brings in the latest talent.”

Shiro sighed, eyes cast down.

“But I keep messing everything up. Everything I throw myself into ends with disaster. Everything I do just makes it worse for her and you and I'm so sorry, I’m-”

“-Woah, hey.” Keith held up a hand, blinking slowly at the sudden spiel. “Back up a little.”

It all made sense, now: why Allura had been so adamant to stamp out more rumours with a fake dating headline, why she was so fixated on Galra Press, why they both split under strain. Allura and Shiro were both carrying stories that were hard just to  _ listen to _ , and Keith wasn't sure he even had  _ all  _ the information. They cared for each other, they’d  _ been through  _ a lot together.

“I guess you're both looking out for each other. You want what's best but… sometimes it's hard to get that across the right way, and you make each other frustrated.”

_ Well shit.  _ Something unpleasant churned in Keith’s stomach. That sounded a lot like he and Lance.

“Something like that.” Shiro offered, noting the detachment in Keith. But he didn't push for an explanation. Rubbing the back of his neck, Shiro sighed.

“I really am sorry I put you in the middle. But now you know why it happened.”

“You were just trying to be nice and  _ do something nice  _ for me and Lance.”  _ Lance,  _ who was right. Eyes pressed shut, Keith clenched a fist.

“Sometimes I just  _ freak out  _ if people do stuff for me because-” Nobody had ever really done that without turning him into a charity case. “-I’ve always been like that, I guess. Then I butted in back at the car, I just felt I had to speak up to both of you. It was… out of respect not  _ lack of it.”  _

Turning to Shiro, Keith pursed his lips. 

“I didn't mean to overstep or come across cold or- something like that.” 

_ That's cold even for you.  _ A sharp memory Keith didn't want to think about, but it wouldn't budge. 

“Keith, trust me. You ‘butting in’ actually helped. And anything you could have said I probably deserved, including the door closed on me.” 

“Don't be so hard on yourself.” Keith surged forwards, pausing at the last minute because he was unsure where to put his hand. After a moment, he settled on the shoulder. 

“I've had  _ one day  _ of fame in IKEA and I'm already mourning McDonalds I haven't ordered yet.”

“Let's go get some, then.” Shiro said, eyed glinting. He stood up with a small wobble from enthusiasm. Keith laughed, following suit. 

“We can’t, we’ll get spotted.” They were that kind of couple now,  _ the fake and famous couple.  _ Shiro turned to him dramatically. 

“Not if we go to the secret one.” 

“That doesn't exist and you know it.” 

“Alright fine. It doesn't exist. We’ll get Hax to pick some up.” 

_ “ _ Yeah.  _ He'll love that.”  _ Keith snorted, entertained by the idea of sneaking through a McDonalds drive-thru with Haxus chauffeuring them. Talk about the height of glitz and glamour. 

“Come on Keith,” Shiro pulled out his phone to dial. “I’m not giving up on those Big Macs.”

Keith had never heard such a  _ ridiculous  _ sentence in his entire life. And he hated how  _ endearing  _ it was, how it split his face into a huge grin. Their hands interlocked as they strolled through the studio alleyway.  Keith felt happy, brave _.  _ But not brave enough to tell Shiro he also wouldn't give up on him. Instead, a snide teasing remark fell from his lips. 

“You gonna pay for your date this time?”  _ Fake date. Fake. Date.  _

“I can be a gentleman, sometimes.” 

Keith looped their arms together, tilting his head with amusement. 

“Then let’s stroll like true gentlemen.” Pause. It was silly, it was  _ cheesy.  _ Shiro felt his heart lurch, never prepared for how effortlessly charming Keith could be. 

“ _ Come let's stroll _ ,” He sang cheerfully, deliberately overdoing the rock n roll voice.  _ “Stroll across the floor. _ ” 

Keith bit his lip, trying to hide the growing smile. The rich depth in Shiro’s voice warmed him. This was fine. 

_ “Now turn around baby, let’s stroll once more.” _

Things were beginning to look so much better than fine. 

**~**

“Hand holding on stage or no hand holding?”

“I think our hands already made the decision for us.” Keith joked, looking down at their intertwined hands.  _ Usually,  _ Shiro would laugh. This time, however, he didn’t. Instead, his cheeks puffed before a stream of air rushed out.

“Right.”

Something was off. Keith raised an eyebrow. His eyes trailed down to Shiro’s thigh, where his free hand tapped against it rhythmically.  

“Wait. You’re not... nervous about this are you?” He asked, spotting the visible signs. “I thought you did big interviews all the time.”

“I know.” Shiro frowned. “But I haven’t done  _ couple  _ ones since-”

_ Oh.  _ Leaning over, Keith adjusted Shiro’s tie. It was already pristine, but he needed something to do with the hand that wasn’t already tightly clutching prosthetic fingers.

“Well for starters, this is different because we’re  _ fake dating _ . And I’d like to think we’re-”

“-Now!” Coran’s voice boomed from the stage, interrupting their moment. “Introducing my guests: the one and only Takashi Shirogane and stunt double Keith!”

The screams of the audience were shrill and full of passion, they were much louder compared to the last time Keith had been on stage. Stepping out onto the stage, spotlights trailing after them, they headed to their seats beside Coran. With Shiro by his side, Keith felt just  _ a little  _ more confident walking out into a world so alien from everything he’d ever known. But his friends weren’t cheering him on backstage this time, so it was a mixed bag.

Twirling his moustache, Coran smiled. The pair of them took their seats, the cheers subsiding. Shiro’s leg was bouncing lightly, Keith pressed his hand gently onto it and gave a light supportive squeeze.

“Good to have you back on the show, Keith!”

“Good to be back.” He replied.

Someone screamed; Keith didn’t get why. Beside him, Shiro remained a little quiet. And Keith knew what he had to do. Because for  _ some reason  _ people liked him, found him charismatic and interesting. Enough for him to trend internationally over twitter, that had to mean something. If Keith couldn’t use that power for good, then it was useless.

“And this time, I’m back with Takashi.”

The crowd burst excitedly at that, it fuelled Keith’s confidence. He could do this. After all, fake dating was just a stunt, right? He’d pulled off  _ plenty  _ of stunts.

“I’m actually not sure what they’re cheering about. Hey, why are you guys cheering for? I haven’t asked any questions yet!” Coran said into the microphone, to which the audience laughed.

“Either they’re recalling your last blunder here, or the fact you’re now in a relationship with Hollywood’s brightest.”

“Oh they…” Keith’s lips twitched. Ducking his head, he smirked. “I- think I - I think I know what it is.”

Silence.

Pause.

“Well are you going to tell us or just keep it to yourself, Keith?” Coran asked, to which the studio laughed again. Even Shiro relaxed, watching the tension naturally unravel. He couldn’t be more thankful for Keith taking the reigns for the start. Sitting up, Keith blinked. Now that he’d  _ done this  _ before, it wasn’t so bad. Not at all, to be honest.

“Oh I -  _ I’m  _ doing the telling?”

“Well yes that’s what my question inferred.” Coran replied, chuckling.

“But I...” Feigning confusion, Keith tapped his chin. “I thought telling people stuff was your job?”

By now, the crowd were constantly reduced to laughter, a few people applauding.

“Okay, I’ll do  _ all our jobs,  _ then. It’s… I think they seem to like it when I say that.” 

“ _ Say what?!”  _ Coran leant across the desk, hands clasping the edge. “That doesn’t tell us anything! _ ”  _

“I mean… Takashi.” The crowd roared immediately. “They like it when I call Shiro that. And I think Shiro does too.”

Keith was completely working the audience by this point without even trying, rendering them to an excited mess. Coyly, Keith looked over to Shiro. Lifting his hands to his face, Shiro hid behind them in embarrassment. Honestly, he had not been prepared for it to turn out this way. Keith’s words, the  _ flutter  _ of his eyelashes and curve of his lips made Shiro want to simultaneously disappear and somehow never leave. Hiding behind his hands  didn’t quite cover  _ how red  _ he’d gone, but it was something. A few people cooed, most were still screaming.

“I’m not gonna lie,” He finally spoke between his fingers. The crowd fell silent immediately, hanging onto every word. “My name sounds really nice coming from him.”

A few people whistled.

“No, wait!” Hands thrown out, Shiro shook his head. “That’s not what I meant!

It was a little  _ bizarre  _ to see the great Takashi Shirogane turn into a bumbling mess because of the guy sat next to him. Shiro was hardly one to trip over his words, yet alone  _ on stage.  _ Raising an eyebrow, Keith attempted to remain Calm. Internally, he was reeling and his heart was doing illegal somersaults. Coran didn’t miss his chance, glancing between them.

“And how about you, Keith? Do you like it when Shiro says your name?”

“I like it when he says anything to be honest. I mean,” Keith folded his arms. “Have you  _ heard  _ this guy’s voice?”

Shiro died, right there on the spot. It was true.

“Shiro could say the most mundane thing and it’d probably sound absolutely fantastic.”

Coran hummed, mulling over Keith’s words. He promptly pulled out some cards, seemingly prepared for every occasion.

“Let’s put that to the test, shall we? Shiro, I’m going to ask you to read out some phrases and we’ll score you.” Coran explained. The crowd perked up, Shiro smiled. He always enjoyed acting challenges, no matter how silly they were.

“Keith, pass the cards to Shiro.”

Taking the cards, Shiro stifled a laugh as he looked down at the printed text.  _ Badly.  _ Curious, Keith poked his head over Shiro’s shoulder. Defensively, Shiro held the cards to his chest. There was a light slap with the force he pushed them out of sight.

“No peeking.” He said, inducing some laughter from the crowd. Keith  _ pouted  _ of all things and that looked to be at least a little for show. But Shiro knew it wasn’t, it was just Keith expressing himself without realising how  _ readable  _ he could be.

“Okay! Shiro, first one.” Coran folded his hands in his lap, waiting for the game to begin.

Clearing his throat, Shiro bit down on a smile.

“I’m a little teapot short and stout. Here’s my handle, and here- _ ”  _ Pause. Shiro held up his prosthetic arm. “Is my spout.”

“Keith?” Coran asked expectantly.

“Great.”

“Not fantastic?” Shiro beat Coran to the punch, smiling despite himself. It wasn’t like he was  _ actively  _ seeking Keith’s approval in a silly game.  _ Or was he. _

“Not yet.”

The crowd hollered, completely ablaze with enthusiasm for the scene on stage. Shiro flipped to the next card, looking over the text. Well. It was certainly relatable.

“Hi there, my name is Takashi Shirogane!” Flashing a superstar smile, Shiro winked at the nearest camera. “And I wish for the sweet, sweet embrace of death.”

“Keith?” Coran glanced his way for the formal assessment.

With a shrug, Keith leant back in his chair.

“Average.”

Not missing a beat, Shiro continued.

“Hi. Welcome to Chilis!”

“Next.” Keith drawled, stifling a laugh poorly behind his hand.

The audience jeered, spurring the game on further. Attention turned to Keith as Shiro leaned forwards. Their faces were suddenly close, mere inches apart. Keith’s eyes widened in surprise because  _ what _ . He looked anywhere besides Shiro’s lips and  _ especially  _ not his eyes. Keith was not ready for this, he had no training for this  _ blatant flirting -  _ even if it was just to build up the story. That’s all it was,  _ all it had to be.  _ Shiro lowered his voice to a low hushed rumble, and Keith  _ hated  _ what it did to his insides. It made no sense because they were just friends fake dating. Friends. 

“ _ Fre sha vo ca do _ .”

Keith held his breath, incapable of even laughing at the joke because  _ Shiro was so close.  _ Pulling back, but not before kissing Keith’s cheek which reduced the crowd to screaming goop, Shiro waited for his rating. It took  _ every ounce  _ of determination for Keith not to stutter, or touch the warm spot on his cheek.

“Better.”

Okay.  _ That was it.  _ Feeling the competitive streak surge in him, Shiro abruptly stood up. If they wanted a show, they were all going to  _ get _ a show. The room fell silent. With that, Shiro built in the tension. Keith was mesmerised. Even for something as trivial as a TV show game, Shiro poured such sincerity and honesty into roles he performed. He walked across the stage, eyes sweeping the cameras. And then came the punchline.

“Pull the trigger piglet.”

That had the entire studio  _ and  _ Keith doubling over with hysterical laughter. Bowing at the rapturous applause sent his way, Shiro then took his seat. Keith looked over to him, smile wide and glistening with mirth.

“You’re such a nerd.” He said, nudging Shiro’s shoulder playfully. For a moment it was as if he were completely unaware of the fact they were on live television.

“I’ve got one!” Coran shouted, raising his hands. All eyes turned his way. “No hiding embarrassing videos of Shiro’s boyband career, we die like men.” 

At this, Keith grinned. His interest piqued immediately. Shiro on the other hand, did  _ not  _ look entertained.

“Keith, are you aware your boyfriend was in a boyband?”

“Oh, he knows all about it.” Shiro replied before Keith could get a word in because  _ payback time.  _ Smiling in a way that was  _ far too innocent  _ to be sincere, he patted Keith’s leg. “Keith actually has one of my songs as his ringtone.”

That had the audience squealing.  _ Great.  _ Keith couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t true, because it was true thanks to Lance. The fact he hadn’t changed it meant nothing. He just hadn’t had time to fiddle about with the settings on his phone. That was all.

“Let’s watch the video, shall we?” Coran brought the screen down, revealing Shiro in the centre with terrible flared jeans and a crop top. Keith couldn’t help it, he spluttered into clumsy laughter. The audience were set off in turn, fondly watching the clip.

“This is the man you have chosen to date, Keith.” Coran said once the clip ended. “Do you have any regrets?”

Without hesitation, Keith replied. His voice was raspy, warm and full of affection for the ridiculous actor sat by his side.

“No chance.”

**~**

The rest of the interview had resumed the same upbeat, lively tone. Keith had  _ almost  _ been roped into doing another spontaneous stunt, but the production team prohibited it. Many laughs later and ridiculous games, it had ended with incredible energy. Coran had even informed them in the break that  _ #sheith  _ had started trending during the show. Now here the pair of them were, waiting outside the green-room for their pickup. The back of the studio was substantially less flashy and classy than the front, or inside. Keith was momentarily reminded of their Ikea trip, waiting for Allura to come rescue them from the mess.

“You’re full of surprises.” Shiro said from the comfortable quiet wrapped around them.

“Hm?”

The exhaustion was spreading over Keith. Unlike most of the time, it was warm and fuzzy. Shiro’s presence probably had something to do with that.

“You were so cool in there. You seemed really in your element. I know you’re a stunt double and can easily adapt to things, it’s just really interesting and fun to see it in person.” He smiled. “You’re also really cheeky when you’re confident.”

It had surprised even Keith, how naturally he’d let his guard down this time round. The lights and buzz hadn’t fazed him. He’d taken it in his stride. But upon reflection, maybe Keith had been  _ too  _ swept up into it all this time round. Undoubtedly, if he cared to watch back, he would be cringing. He wouldn’t be watching back though, because the only person he wanted to do that with was Lance. And Lance wasn't talking to him right now. 

“I meant it, by the way.” Keith said abruptly, guilt already pressing on his mind. “I’m not just - what I say… I don’t just  _ say things.  _ I didn’t mean anything I said up there in a weird way but I wasn’t lying about you either because that would be wrong and I’m a  _ terrible  _ actor.” Pause. Catch his breath because he was  _ spiralling. _

“I’m doing this for you, but I want you to tell me if I ever say the wrong thing in public.”

“Keith,” Shiro started, gently clasping his shoulder. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this because Allura’s trying to make me look good. You’re…” A pause. “...important to me, and I want to be comfortable too. If there’s anything you don’t want me to say or do, just let me know anytime okay?”

“You’re fine. You know I trust you, Shiro.” Keith responded immediately, a small smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.

“Anyway,” Scanning the area, Keith frowned. “Shouldn’t Haxus be here by now?”

They’d been talking for a few minutes now, yet no sign of the usual limousine in sight. Knowing Allura, she would’ve definitely ensured Haxus had a clear itinerary. Not to mention Haxus was usually _ meticulous _ with his time. Even when they ordered the big mac, he’d been meticulous about it.

“There could be traffic.” Shiro offered, rolling his shoulders back. He slowly began unwinding his body with a few stretches. The seats weren’t the most comfortable on stage, despite appearances. Keith could feel that too, in the uncomfortable pulsating between his shoulders. Still, he could  _ also  _ feel the unease of having no ride out of here. Raising an eyebrow incredulously, Keith folded his arms. The roads looked pretty quiet.

“Traffic.”

“Traffic.” Shiro confirmed.

_ “At eleven at night?” _

“Hollywood never sleeps.” Pause. Shiro whipped out his phone anyway, tapping out a quick message. With a quick beep, he slipped it back into his pocket. “So when Haxus  _ does  _ get here… are we going back to yours to pick stuff up?”

At that, Keith’s breath hitched. Oh.  _ Right.  _ Moving in. 

“I… well. It’s Lance. I-”

_ I think I’ve lost my best friend and I don’t know how to fix it. _

“There’s plenty of room for Lance too.” Shiro offered kindly.

Shaking his head, Keith kicked a few leaves on the pavement absently.

“‘S’not that. We got that place together after college and worked really hard for it.”

“I didn’t know that.” There was no way for Shiro  _ to  _ know that, but Keith understood what was happening here. Shiro was giving him an opportunity to open up,  _ keep talking.  _ Pursing his lips, Keith slumped against Shiro’s shoulder.

“Y-Yeah.” He tried to ignore the irritation in his eyes, but even fast blinks weren’t helping. An arm draped around him gently. With a soft pitiful noise he’ll forever  _ deny  _ making, Keith buried his face a little further into the jacket. This was  _ unusual for him,  _ Keith knew that. He didn’t hide his face, hide away from problems.

But here he was.

“Hey. I’m all ears, buddy.”

“Look. I don’t want you to take this as some kind of _ sob story _ but…” Glancing up, Keith rested his chin on Shiro’s shoulder. “I’m kind of an orphan. Nobody cared that much about me, the foster system just kept throwing me between people that didn’t want me until I turned eighteen. Lance has a great family, but they all live in Cuba. He doesn’t get to fly home much. I…”

_ Oh no.  _ He could  _ feel  _ the trembling in his lips.

“I messed up Shiro. We had a big fight and Lance thinks I hate him or  _ something,  _ I don’t know. I want to help you,  _ of course I do.  _ I’m not backing out of this thing, count on that. But I can’t leave Lance alone like that. So I’m not moving in. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry - I understand, Keith. That’s probably for the best. It was a big ask. Allura was worried for your safety but there are other ways we can keep track of things like that.”

Keith headbutted Shiro forcefully in the shoulder, then. A small grunt escaping his lips.

“Ow!” Shiro laughed in disbelief. “What was that for?”

“You’re too nice.” Keith grumbled, giving another headbutt into Shiro's shoulder.

“My niceness offends you?”

“No.” Eyes flicked up slowly. “ _ The opposite _ .”

Shiro’s heart stuttered in his chest. Between the way Keith was looking at him and then the way Keith looked in general, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to not act on his impulses in that moment. He wanted to close the gap between them but he knew it probably wasn’t wise. Especially since they  _ weren’t actually dating. _

He elected to ignore it in favour of enjoying the quiet moment with Keith. Everything was nearly perfect.

Which of course meant that chaos had to immediately happen.

In the blink of an eye, the couple were surrounded by paparazzi. Bright flashes of light that were hard on Shiro, so he could only  _ imagine  _ what they were doing to Keith. The photoshoot had been bad enough. He did his best to put himself between the two, wanting to keep Keith out of it as best he could.

That’s when questions started to get asked, words flying out mercilessly.

“Is Keith only using you because you’re famous?”

“Is Keith really who he says he is?”

“Are you using Keith as payback for what Sendak did to you?”

“Is this all a ploy?”

Flash. Shove. Click. 

“ _ Hey.”  _ Keith hissed as one reporter got too close. It was a mistake, but his head was throbbing. The pair of them were swarmed, barely able to push through the ambush. No stunt could get them out of this.

“Keith is it true that you once punched a reporter in the face?”

“Are you really living together?”

“How do you know Keith is someone you can trust?”

They came in so quickly and harshly, steadily getting more and more heavy as they asked and Shiro didn’t answer. He was getting agitated and tense. He could feel himself closing up. Shiro took a breath before speaking. The crowd fell silent in anticipation.

“Keith and I are very happy together. Without him, my life would have turned out a whole lot different.”

Then he did something that surprised even himself.

He kissed Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooooOOOOOOO BOY!!!!!!!! WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NOW?! 
> 
> sorry we took FOREVER with the update, this chapter really sets into motion a lot of stuff coming ahead. so we wanted to get it the gear shift right and also there was a lot of ground to get covered. especially with allura and shiro + keith and lance. as you can see their relationships are very important to the story. 
> 
> we really had so much fun with this chapter. honestly the interview was really fun. Big thank you to Salt who helped with the interview game and listened, much appreciated. 
> 
> Love to hear your thoughts! 
> 
> Big love,  
> Sunny & Sam


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